Recovery
by HinnyandRomione4ever
Summary: It's been a long, hard year for Harry Potter. He thought his life was going to stay like this forever as he started to give up hope that he'd ever find happiness again. But, a life changing discovery comes out of the blue, and now Harry and his fellow aurors have to reopen a recently closed case and this time find out who did this. And yet, two people still have to recover.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey! Welcome to my new story. I know you think I already have three going and I haven't been great at updating them lately but I have important announcements to make.**

**Unfortunately, I wasn't getting a great audience for 'Reaching Limits' so i decided to discontinue it. I may restart it after I rethink the plot.**

**I've been working on this for a couple months now, and I think it will break my heart if it ends up like Reaching Limits did. But, I have a good feeling about this story. To Make Life More Complicated will be updated soon and so will As Time Flies By. They will be updated sometime after I'm out of school. **

**But, anyway, welcome to Recovery, a story of love and determination. Join Harry through a chaotic year. Enjoy!**

* * *

I walk into St. Mungo's completely oblivious to the people staring at me; over these past few weeks, I've started to get used to the new uproar that now had my name in all the headlines. Of course, I've seemed to be in many headlines since the war, but none of the stories have struck the public like this one.

"_Harry Potter Reunited With Lost Love!"_

"_Harry Potter and His M.I.A Girlfriend Together Again!"_

"_Chosen One's Chosen One back from the dead!"_

I roll my eyes at the words that the _Daily Prophet_ calls news. They made it seem like a dream come true, when really it's a nightmare. The press, the healers, the public, and my boss are all up to my neck with questions, asking me what to do about the current situation, when really I haven't even gotten the chance to have it be properly sunken in yet.

I walk into the elevator, that is almost identical to the ones in the Ministry, and push the button labeled, '_Level C_.' Yes; that's right, the mental rehabilitation level of St. Mungo's. This level has been my life since the second I entered the hospital twenty-three days ago.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter, here for lunch, again?" One of the healers, Madame Richard, asks as she pulls out my visitors pass. They've started to expect me in the mornings, at lunchtime, and at night when I visit here to see how everything is going.

"Yes, I am. Has she eaten yet?" I ask. The healer smiles at me and shakes her head.

"Follow me, Mr. Potter."

I follow the frumpy, old woman like I have been since the fifteenth of July. I know where I'm going, but I let the old healer lead me anyway. She stops in front of the door with my girl—well where her name is. I would call her my girlfriend but right now we're at a stand still since the healers have given her potions that cause her not to remember me.

"Alright, you have one hour, then I have to give her the medication." The healer says before opening the door.

* * *

I guess I should probably backtrack for you. It's a bit of an odd spot to start the story at. I guess I should start way back, about a year ago, when everything I knew started to slowly crumble in my hands…


	2. What Happened

I wake up in bed, smiling at the sight that I see; my girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, is sleeping next to me with the covers tightened to her chest. She looks so peaceful with a slight smile playing on her face.

What did I do to deserve a girl like her? She's everything I want and more. As she startles a little and slowly opens her eyes, I smile like I always do.

"Hey, you." She whispers, rubbing the sleep out of her right eye.

"Good morning." I say before gathering her in my arms and kissing her in her hair. She giggles like she always does when I do this in the morning.

We had been living together for the past four months, even though Ron had complained that Ginny was too young to be living in the same space as her boyfriend. In the back of my mind, I feel a little guilty for not listening to him but then I remember how incredible these past few months have been and I start to not care what he thinks. I think Ginny implanted that in me; the power to stop caring, it still feels foreign.

Ginny sits up and stretches her shoulders a little.

"What do you want for breakfast?" She asks as she starts to yawn.

"It doesn't matter." I say. She glares at me; she hates it when I answer with, 'I don't care,' or, 'it doesn't matter,' because she doesn't like to make a decision for me.

After she leaves, I slowly get dressed and brush my teeth, noting the fact that I need to shave but pushing it aside for one more day. How Ginny could live with me is beyond me.

I walk into the kitchen and find her sitting at the table with a piece of toast in hand. Across from her sits a piece for me, I never expect a grand, eccentric breakfast because she doesn't have the patience to cook in the morning.

Beside the piece of toast sits the _Daily Prophet, _as I sit, I push it aside; I never care about what they write anymore. Rita Skeeter was promoted to senior corporate for the _Prophet _about six months ago; and since then the paper has gone down hill, causing it to be more of a trashy gossip column than a reliable news source. I've been waiting for the Ministry to intervene but they have bigger gnomes to throw than shut down Rita Skeeter's unneeded writings.

Ginny, of course, sits with _Which Broomstick _in hand, like every morning. I never understood how she could sit and read the same copy of that magazine every morning until the new edition gets delivered once a month.

So if you're wondering, life has been finally normal for me. I have a job, a girlfriend, a home, a grouchy house elf and, well, a life outside saving the world.

Ginny finishes her toast and smiles at me as I start mine.

"So, I know you're going to hate this, but practice is supposed to end late today…and of course, it's my night to polish the broomsticks." She says folding up the copy of her magazine.

"So, you'll get home even later. Don't worry; I understand, you're not the one calling practice, so there's really nothing you can do about it…just try and polish the broomsticks fast." I say, giving her a wink.

"Alright, fine," She says rolling her eyes, "I need to get ready, but I'll just be a second." She adds as she gets up from her stop and kisses my head.

I stare at her retreating figure reminiscing about the day she got her acceptance letter for the Holyhead Harpies. She was so excited then, and now, half way through her second season, as a professional Quidditch player, she's still as enthusiastic as she was about going to practice; even if it runs late.

I turn around, just in time to hear tapping at the window across the room. It's Athena, my new owl, well…sort of new; I got her about five months after the war to replace Hedwig. She's alright; a bit slower than Hedwig and a bit less outgoing but she's good. In a way, I sympathize for her; she'll never live up to the legacy of Hedwig and I think she knows that, even though she's a bird.

I open the window to let her in, grab the letters from her foot, give her a few pumpkin treats, and then return to the table.

Ginny returns, her hair tied back and her bag over her shoulder, "I'll be back around eight-thirty. Have a good day at work." She says kissing me on the cheek and turning around but, I grab her wrist before she could go far.

"If you're going to come home late; you can do better than that." I say, standing from my seat. She rolls her eyes then gives me a chaste kiss on the lips.

"See you later." She says, as she floos to the Harpies pitch.

Little did I know that that was going to be the last time I ever see her for the next year, a month and six days.

At around midnight of that night, I remember tossing and turning because my girlfriend still hadn't returned home. And by four the next morning, I flooed to the Ministry and filed a missing person's claim.

**Name of missing person:**_ Ginevra Molly Weasley_

** Date of disappearance:**_ 9__th__ of June, 2001_

** Last seen at (Time and Place):**_ 8:30pm at the Holyhead Harpies' Pitch_

** Witness for answer above:**_ Gwenog Jones_

**Contact **_Harry Potter _**at **_12 Grimmauld Place _**if found.**


	3. The Boyfriend

That brings us back to present time, where I'm in front of Ginny's door in the mental rehabilitation center on 'Level C' of St Mungo's in London, England.

I open the door and find her sitting on her bed looking at the pictures in a children's book. She looks up at me and smiles.

"Hello, Harry." She greets me. I smile a little, as far as she knows, I'm just a distant family friend.

"Hey, Ginny," I reply, taking the seat that's beside her bed.

"Ginny? Harry, I thought we went over this, the healers told me my name is Ginevra." She says setting the book down.

"Oh, yeah; that's right, sorry." I say, I still can't stand what this hospital is doing to her.

After we found Ginny, they've been drugging her with heavy potions to help repress any serious, traumatic memories, helping her body heal its physical state before its mental state. The potion causes her to forget faces, names, backgrounds or anything dealing with a personal life. But she can remember how to brush her teeth, or perform a spell because it's a different part of the brain that the potion does not reach.

"So, how has your morning been at the bakery?" Ginny asks.

"Fine." I say awkwardly. Another lie I had to tell her. The healers believe that if I tell her I'm an auror it may cause her to be suspicious and not trust my story of being a family friend.

"That's fun. Maybe you can take me there when they let me out of here." She says excitedly. I nod and give her a slight smile.

"So, have you had any visitors today?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Yes, actually. I guess I have a friend named…uh…Luna? Yeah, Luna. She writes for a magazine with her father. And then a man named Bill and his wife, Fleur, came." She says before pausing, "Bill oddly looked like me…"

I sit still for a moment, what was I supposed to say? She was told that she was an only child, with a loving mother and father, both of whom she had met the first day they permitted visitors, and that she ended up there because of a freak accident that led to her having a serious head injury. The first time Mrs. Weasley visited was apparently dramatic, seeing her baby alive.

You see, after about eight months of looking with no leads on where she could have gone, no findings of magic produced by her wand, and no reports of an abnormal use of accidental magic, the Ministry announced that it was highly unlikely that she was still alive. The evidence just couldn't support her running away and if someone kidnapped her, then well, they would have taunted the ministry to get a reward or revenge of some kind.

I can still remember the week clearly, the announcement, Mrs. Weasley's reaction, everything. And about two months after that, I apparently was too depressed to function, so Ron and Hermione thought that it would help me recover and move on if I had someone by my side. So, they decided to give me a blind date with one of Hermione's coworkers. I, of course, wasn't let in on the plan.

So the night that I thought I was going to meet Ron and Hermione for drinks turned out to be a disaster after Caroline showed up and Hermione slyly invited her to sit with us, later ending with Ron and Hermione going to the bathroom and never returning and me awkwardly sitting alone with Caroline, too angry at my friends to speak. But back to Ginny.

I decide to leave the subject of Bill's appearance at rest by shrugging and telling her I wouldn't know.

"Do you want to play a game of chess?" She finally asks after about thirty seconds of pure, awkward silence.

"Sure." I say, smiling.

"Okay, Harry, but I have to warn you, I've been undefeated since I got here."

Yes, exactly, since she got here. Little does she know that I've played wizard's chess with her a million times and never lost. I guess I was that kind of boyfriend that didn't let his girlfriend win just because she was his girlfriend.

"Alright, I'm up for a challenge." I say, following her from her bed to her small desk that contains the chess board.

"Here, I'll put it down here and we'll play on the floor…unless that's not okay." She says, but I wave off her worries because I actually don't mind playing it on the floor, it's just like we're back at Hogwarts in the common room during my sixth year.

We played for a good half an hour, of course, against what I really wanted to do, I let her win at the last second. I couldn't ruin her undefeated title. That probably gained her some type of street credit in this facility.

"Mr. Potter, time's up." The frumpy healer from the front desk says after intruding on our fun of jokes and laughter.

"But, Madame Richard." Ginny argues.

"No, it's time for your potions." She says holding the door for me and letting in the other healer with a cart containing the four potions she needs to drink.

"Fine…Bye, Harry!" She calls before I'm completely out of hearing range.

"You know, Mr. Potter, your visits are helping her treatment, right?" I nod slightly, "When you're not here, she's constantly asking questions about her 'accident'. But when you are here, her mind is on some other cloud."

"Do you know when they'll stop giving her the potions?"

"It's hard to tell how fast the body can recover. But as soon as she's in good health, we'll take her off the potions and start to address her mental state. That will also include permission to answer any questions the auror department might have."

"Okay, thank you, Madame Richard."

"Any day, Mr. Potter."

I return back to the auror department, ready to look into Ginny's case. But, unfortunately, I was stopped by Ron, who has been bugging me with an endless vortex of questions. You see, Ron isn't allowed to visit Ginny because the healers believe that if too many ginger men keep coming to visit, she'll start to be suspicious. Along with Ron, George, and Percy aren't allowed to visit either. It's just the rules. Seems like everything will make her suspicious of the big, fat lie we had to tell her.

"She's the same as she's been for the past three weeks." I say, monotone. I haven't been sleeping well since we found her. All I can think about is her and her health.

"No improvement at all?" Ron asks.

"Well the scabs on her cheeks are gone, if that's what you're looking for." I don't mean to be so rude, but I can't help it at the moment. It's like I'm fifteen again.

"Did they say when they'll stop administering the potions?"

"No, just when she's back in decent health."

"Well my question is, what does 'decent health' mean anyway? There are millions of people with diseases and weight problems who don't do anything about it. There are people starving and dehydrated and are perfectly happy with themselves, and others who are living with unknown parasites in their stomachs. So what the bloody hell is 'decent health' if no one in the world has it?"

Ron does make a valid point, but I'm too tired and annoyed to compliment him, so I just give him a look of contempt and hope he gets the idea. He, unfortunately, notices my glare and rolls his eyes.

"Mate, if you're going to give me the stink eye, at least do it when you have a good reason to. Just because you're exhausted does not give you an excuse to be a complete kill-joy. We're going through this too, you know." I sigh.

"I know, but I'm just frustrated. Ginny is back in a mental institution while her captor is somewhere free and proud that they did it. They're probably watching us, laughing at the fact that we have neither leads nor evidence on anyone."

"Well, once St. Mungo's hurries their arses up, we'll get all that information after we question Ginny."

"The real question is whether Ginny will cooperate with answering questions about it, apparently when she woke up in intensive care, she went mad."

It took about three highly ranked healers to give her a sedative. And that's when they decided that 'EMR', or Emergency Mental Rehabilitation, would be the best option to help her recover.

"I'm sure all you'll have to do is look at her and she'll cave."

"But that's not fair to her. I keep thinking how ironic this month has been. I mean, when I dreamed about Ginny coming back, it was in a way that you see in an old fashioned muggle movie when the damsel in distress would come running into his arms, in perfect health. But I was foolish. She wasn't staying at a five star hotel; she was in the cellar of an old, abandoned shack, nearly unconscious."

"Life isn't fair, mate. But she's strong, if anyone had to go through something like this, the one person I can think of who would make it out alive is Ginny."

"I know." I say, he is completely right. Ginny is a whole lot stronger than anyone in the Wizarding world. If I could defeat Voldemort when I was seventeen, she can definitely make it through this with ease.

After the afternoon passes by of reviewing Ginny's file, I stop by St. Mungo's to visit Ginny before I go home. Of course, I follow the same routine I always do that ends with me following Madame Richard to Ginny's room.

This time, when I open the door, Ginny is unusually happy and looking out her window.

"Hey, Gin—I mean, Ginevra, what's going on?" I ask. She turns towards me and jumps out of her chair and hugs me.

"Oh, Harry, you'll never believe what an afternoon I've had."

"Really? Well, try me."

"Alright, well, Luna came by after you left, and we spoke for about an hour and I asked her what I was like before my accident, and she told me that I was a logical, independent woman with a stable career, and a _loyal boyfriend who actually still cares about me_!" She stops to take a deep breath at the same time when mine hitched.

"Oh, really…um…who is he?" I ask, trying to keep from giving away anything.

"She wouldn't tell me his name. She just said that he's extremely famous for his accomplishments as a teenager and he comes from a fine family."

"Well, uh, why hasn't he visited you?"

"She said that before I got my head injury, my boyfriend and I would try extra hard to keep the public appearances to a minimum so the press wouldn't write about us, so he's trying to do the same and he'll visit when I'm out of here."

"Oh," was all I could say at the moment.

"Yeah! Wait, Harry, could you by any chance find him for me? I mean you must know him with you being a family friend, and he's super famous so he couldn't be that hard to find. Tell him…I don't know; just tell him that I can't wait 'til he visits me." She says before plopping on her bed in a way a girl does when she's overwhelmed with excitement.

I gulp. If she only knew that her boyfriend is standing right here.

I take a seat in the chair in front of her desk and try to contain my fidgeting. She sits up and starts to ramble on,

"I bet he's gorgeously tan, with beautiful eyes. Maybe pretty blue ones." I look down at my hands, _Tan? No, _I think, _Blue eyes? Well, maybe with a bit of a yellow tint._ "He could have perfect teeth and an unbelievable body."

_Perfect teeth? What the hell does it take to have perfect teeth? I mean, mine are straight, and white…does that make them perfect? Unbelievable body? Um…I wouldn't know. _

I spend my next hour listening to Ginny go on and on about how she pictures her boyfriend to be like. Every characteristic more off than the next and my stomach starts to churn.

To be honest, I was a bit relieved when Madame Richard came and told us it was time for me to leave.

I visit Ginny that next morning, she's still thinking about her boyfriend and keeps asking me about him even though I keep answering her with the same answer of, 'I don't know; I don't know who he is.'

I leave an hour later with the same feeling that I had when I left last night. Before her accident, Ginny would tell me that I'm all she ever wanted; no matter what, she wouldn't change a thing about me from my green eyes to my awkward fidgeting I do when I'm thinking too much. But, you never know when someone's lying…or if they're unsure of what they really want. With Ginny on these potions, she speaks her mind. Her true feelings. And if she thinks that her loyal boyfriend is some fitness-addicted, model-looking, superstar with a _Scourgify-me_ _toothpaste _smile, then that must be what she dreams her guy to be. And that's not me.

Of course, her words haunt me throughout the day. I skip eating lunch entirely, and just sit at my desk pondering things over. I may be over thinking little things but I can't help it. When she said that she was 'sure that he was probably an excellent cook that made gourmet dinners every night,' I realized how different this man was from me. To be honest, it makes me question things.

By the time that the day turns to dusk, I have summoned the courage to go back and see Ginny, hopefully her 'boyfriend' will slip her mind after I bring her favorite Thai food to her.

I arrive at St. Mungo's at about seven-thirty. Madame Richard leads me to Ginny's room and gives me the rules as usual. Then finally, I open the door and walk inside Ginny's room. She's sitting on her bed holding a magazine that seems to be prehistoric. I set the food on her desk and she looks up at me with confusion.

"Why don't you come during lunch anymore?" She asks, not even greeting me first.

"Um, well these past few days have been crazy at the…uh…bakery." I say.

"Is there a big event coming up?" She asks.

"Not that I know of." I say awkwardly. She glances at the food and her confused expression doesn't fade away.

"What's in the bag?" She asks. Something is off with her.

"Um, Thai food…your parents told me that you like Thai food so I got you some." She nods and looks back at the magazine.

"What are you looking at?" I ask sitting down in my usual spot.

"Oh…uh…its nothing." She says closing it and throwing it under her cot.

"Doesn't look like nothing." I say glancing at the discarded paper.

"I was just looking at the pictures of the top music charts. Apparently the band, the Weird Sisters, is first on the charts." She says. But I look in her eyes. I know that look. It's that look she has when she's hiding something.

"So are we going to eat?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Sure…what did you bring?"

"Um, well, your mum told me that you like Chicken Valcano," that's a lie; I knew that after dating her for about two years, "So I got that for you. But, if you don't like it you can take some of my ginger soup."

"Thank you…it's nice to have something that doesn't taste like wet sawdust."

I hand her the take-out box and she starts eating, looking pretty satisfied once she takes her first bite. We eat in silence for a while. Something is definitely off with her. She seems unsure. Uneasy. She sets her takeout box down and looks at me for a second.

"Harry…" She says looking at me with her knees in her chest and her arms wrapped around them. I look up from my food.

She stares at me for a little bit, something about her expression tells me she has had a revelation of some sort. A revelation that scares her. Something she can't believe. But all at once, too fast for me to comprehend what's happening, she crashes her lips to mine. I freeze where I am, my eyes wide open. How could this be happening? She has her thoughts about her boyfriend…I mean, me…I mean, that man she…my mind is going a million directions at once and I can't come to a thought right now.

She pulls away with the same look she has been giving me since I got here.

"What?" She asks, after I sit silent for a few minutes.

"What…you just…I mean…wait…do you…" I still can't think straight, let alone create a sentence.

"I—uh—was going through a magazine…and—well—you're not a distant family friend are you?" She asks.

"I'm not," is all I can answer with.

"And you're not a baker."

"No." She pushes out a short breath and shakes her head with a slight smile on her face.

"You've been lying to me this entire time. Why?" I gulp.

"Because…well,"


	4. The Trunk

_"You've been lying to me this whole time. Why?" I gulp._

_"Because…well," _

I'm stuck. Trapped. The healers are going to kill me.

"Ginny, you're not here because of a freak accident." She looks at me confused.

"Yeah I am; I fell off my broom and hit my head when I got to the ground."

"No, you didn't…Ginny, you were…kidnapped about a year ago." She looks at me not convinced. But slowly, as the fact starts to sink into her mind, she starts to shake her head as her lip trembles.

"No." Her voice cracks. She squeezes her eyes closed as if she's trying to close out the world. "No, that's not true." She says as tears start to threaten her eyes. I sit there numb for a second. What else could I say to make her feel better? I'm such a lousy boyf—lousy friend.

I decide to get up and sit next to her. She jerks away as I start to rub her back.

"Don't touch me." She says scooting away.

"Ginny…" I whisper but she starts to talk to herself and rock back and forth.

"Stop calling me that! My name is Ginevra. I'm an only child with a friend named Luna and another named Bill. My mum and dad have visited me many times with different types of taffy as gifts. I'm here because I fell off my broom and got a serious head injury from it. And I have a loyal boyfriend, who happens to…"

But she wasn't able to finish. Her sudden outburst caused such a disturbance to the point where three healers slammed open the door with a sedative at the ready. Madame Richard, being one of them, points at me then motions me to come outside. I get up just as two healers grab Ginny's wrists and one extracts the syringe from the vile of sedative potions.

"What happened?" Madame Richard basically shouts at me.

"I came in and she was looking at a magazine and—"

"That's impossible. No patient is allowed to have any source of reading unless it is approved by the healers; all magazines are prohibited."

"Well then how did Ginny get a hold of a magazine?" I ask.

"She couldn't have. Unless a visitor left it with her."

"Well, how many visitors has she had today?" I ask, but Madame Richard shrugs, she turns on her heel and starts to travel to the front counter in the waiting area. I follow close behind. She picks up the visitor's sheet and reads down the list, searching for people who put 'Ginevra Weasley' as their patient. She rambles off names, "Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Bill Weasley, Molly Weasley and Arthur Weasley…"

"No, I know none of them would leave anything like a magazine with Ginny."

"Well, the list isn't done yet," Madame Richard looks at me then rolls her eyes to return to the clipboard, "Um…Arthur Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Gwenog Jones, and then you."

I shake my head. I can trust all of those people. No way, did any of them leave a magazine with her.

"Alright, then how many people have had access to her room?"

"Mr. Potter, that's impossible to tell. Any employee of St. Mungo's has access to her room. Janitors, healers, medi-witches, secretaries, you name it. And every employee knows the rules and standards of every level in this hospital. I mean, everyone here has taken an oath." She finishes by slamming the clipboard back onto the counter.

I shake my head, "When are you going to take her off of these potions? Maybe if she could think for herself, she could tell us." I wince internally at how rude I'm being.

"I am not in charge of that. If you want her off of those potions so badly, you need to get her parents to vouch for her by signing a few papers, and giving permission to the healer in charge of Ms. Weasley." She says before walking off.

I ponder for a moment about what the appropriate action would be to go about this. The only thing I can think of is going to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and asking them.

I quickly make my way out into the general waiting room on Level A of St. Mungo's. I don't even acknowledge the witch at the front desk's lazy, _'Have a nice day,' _before flooing to the Burrow.

* * *

When I arrive in the living room of the Burrow, I hear Mrs. Weasley's voice say something along the lines of, '_I'll be with you in a minute'_ coming from the kitchen. Of course, I stay put for her to greet me, even though after years and years of me staying here she has told me that I should just feel free to come in on my own.

She walks into the living room with an apron tied over her long, floral dress.

"Harry! Glad to finally see you come around!" She says before pulling me into one of her crushing hugs, "I know you've been busy with work and well, Ginny's reappearance, but that does not excuse you from missing the family dinners." She says patting my cheek.

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley."

"Mum, Harry."

"Sorry, Mum. But I've needed time to think."

"Well, you can think before the Sunday dinners, and then after. Thinking isn't a good enough excuse, Harry." She says before leading me into the kitchen. I listen closely as she mumbles, "You'd think out of all my sons, you'd be the one who'd come more often. You look even more peaky than you did before."

"Um, Mrs—Mum, events have just occurred at St. Mungo's." I say taking the mug of tea she shoved in my hands. She looks up at me; face starting to flush, and sits down at the table. I take a seat across from her, and set the mug down.

"What? Is Ginny okay?"

"Um, that's debatable. I came to have dinner with her, but when I came in she had a magazine. I didn't think much about it at first but then she suddenly looked at me and basically told me that I was her boyfriend, and then, well, she kissed me, and asked why we've lied to her. So, I was cornered, even though I shouldn't have, I told her that she wasn't there because of an accident. I'm really sorry. She started freaking out and yelling and shaking. And they came in and shot her with a sedative."

"Do they know where the magazine came from?"

"No, everyone who visited today wouldn't have given her even a peak at an old magazine, especially one with a picture of us displayed on the front."

"So, is that why you came here?"

"Well, I feel as though she's about as physically healed as she's ever been, considering everything that's happened to her as a Quidditch Player. And even though I know that there's going to be a break down, I feel as though it's going to be less traumatizing the sooner they get her off of those blasted potions." She glances down at her tea and takes a deep breath.

"Let me get Arthur, he has a right to have a say in this." She says before getting up. I nod, and stand up as well. She already knows why. I walk over to the counter and look out the window.

The thing about the kitchen windows is that they have a perfect view of the field that is behind the Weasley home. And in the very back of the field, two blocks of marble stand up with pride. Both with names and epitaphs of the people who lie there. But that's not entirely true. The one on the right, made of grey marble, does have the person buried beneath it, but the other one doesn't.

I'm sure you've figured it out by now. The right one is for Fred, it was created right after the battle. But I don't want to get into that and relive the day it was constructed. But the left one is Ginny's. Sort of. Since we didn't have Ginny's physical body, we buried a trunk with items that meant a lot to us; things that represented what Ginny was. And well, the item that I chose means more to me than anything in the world.

Now, I've never told anyone directly what the artifact was after her disappearance. So you should feel lucky that I'm even telling you this. As everyone in the Wizarding world knows, Ginny and I were dating, and had been for a long time. There was no doubt in my mind that I was in love with her. Heels over head—or head over heels, madly in love with her. So, after months and months of me pondering over what lied ahead, I finally set a date.

Ginny went missing on a Thursday, I'll never forget that. Mainly because on the Saturday after that, I had planned on surprising Ginny with a special gift. A proposal. But, of course, Ginny was kidnapped. And I never got the chance. I remember lying in bed with the box on my night stand taunting me. Slapping me in the face over and over. Telling me that I'd never get the chance to put it on Ginny's left ring finger.

And when the funeral, or celebration of life, as Luna called it, came, I put the box in the trunk along with a note, a note that's extremely personal and I'm not planning on sharing. The only reason Mrs. Weasley knows about it is because I asked Mr. Weasley permission to propose to Ginny about a month before the planned date. And I'm sure he had told her after everything unfolded.

Now, my attention is being redirected to a hand that was just put on my shoulder. I turn around to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looking at me with worried eyes. Worried about Ginny. Not so much me.

"Harry, what do you need us for?" Mr. Weasley asks.

"Well," in times like these, Mr. Weasley intimidates me to the max, "I believe that Ginny shouldn't be on the potions any longer. I mean, the longer she's on them, the more dramatic it will be for her when she's taken off of them." I say then gulp.

"Arthur, I think Harry has a point. When we visited her today, she seemed perfectly healthy. If anything, I think the healers are just scared of the moment when Ginny remembers everything. Afraid of the disturbance and the madness to come." Mrs. Weasley says taking his arm.

Mr. Weasley takes a breath and glances at Harry, "You're right. The sooner the better."


	5. Broken

I end up taking off work today. I mean, today is the day. The day when the healers don't dispense Ginny's potions. I'm nervous about what she's going to say. Was she taken? Did she leave? That thought never occurred to me before. The fact that she could have chosen to leave. I mean, we've been assuming she was taken for no reason other than the fact she was gone.

Before I go to the hospital, I take the time to go over the file I had taken home from work a few weeks ago. It's the file about the day we found her.

_We had just gotten an anonymous notification about an abandoned home in the country. Apparently a few young wizards around the ages of nine and ten, went inside and found some strange magical artifacts. According to the report, the eldest boy picked up a strange box and immediately started to have some type of seizure. The other two children went and notified the parents who took their child to St. Mungo's and reported the event to the auror department. That's where I come in._

_ Robards chose about six other aurors to come and search the house, including Ron and I. We get cases like this all the time. Usually it ends up being left over dark magic from the war that was never found 'til now. So, like usual we all geared up and set out to the house that was located somewhere in the mundane British country side. _

_ We get there and split up. Ron and I start looking on the main level of the three leveled, broken house. While two aurors take the upstairs, another two, including Robards, take the outside and someone goes downstairs. I start in what looks like a kitchen, going through drawers and cabinets. Checking to see if there were any hollow places under the floor boards where weapons could be hidden. _

_ "Harry, this is ridiculous. Seven aurors? What are we even looking for anyway?" _

_ "Ron, just think the faster we do this the faster we get home." I reply. And make my way to the living room. There's a molded brown couch with awful patchwork, a desk that looks as if it was painted green at one point, and of course an old fireplace that is coated with dust. _

_ "There's nothing here." Ron says in an annoying town. But I've learned to tune him out when he gets like this. There are things about this place that we know; number one, some child got cursed here, number two, we still haven't found the 'box thing' yet. _

_ We start searching the room, finding nothing until Ron gets to the desk. There's movement behind me I turn to see the auror that was supposed to be in the basement run outside to Robards. Probably spooked. _

_ "Harry." Ron says, "Come look at this." I give him a confused glance before walking over to the desk that has a drawer ajar._

_ "What is it?" I ask before getting a full look into the drawer._

_ "Isn't that a broken wand? Like a wand that's in…well it looks like eight pieces?" He asks. I suppose it is. I take another look at it, before holding my wand to it and muttering a few spells that tell me whether its safe to touch. _

_ I pull out all the pieces and try to align them in ways to create a wand. Wait a minute…_

_ "Potter, Weasley. You might want to see this." Robards says from the stairwell that leads to the basement. I glance at Ron. He gulps. I think he's expecting the same thing I do._

_ We follow Robards and the other auror that was assigned to search the cellar down the stairwell. I can feel the anxiety start to grow. There's only one reason why Robards would want Ron and I to leave a post and 'see' something. _

_ They open up door that's made up of metal bars, like a prison cell, and stand aside for both of us to walk in. Then I see it. A rusting, metal framed bed, that has some sort of dirty, brown blanket and…_

_ We both basically sprint to the bed, even though its not that far away. And there she is. It's Ginny. A skeleton like Ginny. Her hair, a disheveled mess, that's much longer than it was before. Her skin paler than usual. And her clothes, stained and ripped, looking as though she's never taken them off._

_ I put two fingers to her neck. There it is. A pulse. She's alive._

_ "Ginny." I say shaking her shoulder. There's no response._

_ "Ginny. Wake up." Ron says shaking her a bit more roughly. Her eyes start to flutter and finally she opens them fully. But before she even looks at us she flinches, as if she's preparing us to hurt her. _

_ "Ginny." I say, placing a hand on her forearm. She slowly looks down at my hand then up at me. Her breath is shallow. "Ginny, d-do you know who I am?" She gulps. No response. "Ginny?"_

_ "Harry?" She whispers, her voice rough from under use. Ron lets out a short intake of breath. She turns to him; her eyebrows knitted together, "Ron?" _

_ I start to look around, trying to find any remnants of the person who took her, anything that can help identify him. But there are only a few things in this room. If you don't include the bed, all of them are Daily Prophets. And all of them pertain to Ginny. _

_ Robards gathers up all the aurors and make them take everything in as evidence as we try to help Ginny up. But she can't get up. She has some type of bond; tying up her ankle to the end of the bed. Ron points his wand to it and completely blows it up. He doesn't care. I could tell that he was just made up of pure angst to getting Ginny out of here. _

_ "Someone get a medic down here!" Robards calls. We wait for three of the auror team's medics to arrive with a stretcher to take Ginny out of here._

To be completely honest, that's not how I wanted to find Ginny. She was so broken. So scared. I don't know why, but when I imagined finding her, it included her running into my arms like every damsel in distress you see in movies.

I put her file down. It's time to go. I floo over to St. Mungo's and like usual go back up to Level C. When I get there, I noticed I'm not the only one who took off work for this day. Everyone did.

"Harry." I hear Mrs. Weasley say, in her warm tone. I glance at her and give her a small smile, and that's when I notice everyone's nervous. Mr. Weasley is lost in his thoughts. Bill and Fleur are murmuring to each other. Percy is pacing. George is walking around the waiting room's windows, trying to keep his mind occupied. Then there's Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Dean, Seamus, and all of the Holyhead Harpies. Looks as if Ginny is a lot more popular than she thinks.

"They said Ginny's usual time to take the potions is in about ten minutes. So she'll start to remember things gradually after that." Hermione's voice cuts through my thoughts again.

"Come sit down." Ron says gesturing to the seat on the other side of Hermione. I sit down and almost immediately my knee starts to bounce. It feels like months, years, decades, before Madame Richard comes out and nods to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"She can see you now." She says to them as they get up from their seats.

"Harry, why don't you come with us?" Mrs. Weasley says.

"No, I couldn't…"

"No, you deserve to be one of the firsts to see her." Mr. Weasley interrupts me. I nod, before getting up. We follow Madame Richard to Ginny's room. She gives us a sympathetic look before opening the door for the three of us to go inside.

She's sitting up with her knees tucked in and her head down. Mr. Weasley sits at the end of her bed and Mrs. Weasley kneels down next to her before putting her hand on her shoulder, she flinches away.

"Ginny." Mrs. Weasley says. Ginny looks up at her mum, tears streaking down her face. And in one swift moment, she attacks Mrs. Weasley into a tight hug.

"Mummy." She says quietly, sobbing into her mum's shoulder. Mrs. Weasley starts to cry as well. I stand still this is their moment, their family moment. Ginny's sobs turn into loud crying. She's heartbroken. I can tell.

"Ginny." Mr. Weasley says rubbing her back, but she doesn't move. She stays in her mum's embrace. I close the door to her room gently. The whole hospital probably could hear her.

"You're safe. You're safe." Mrs. Weasley whispers to her through her tears. Ginny continues to cry. It's a heartbreaking scene; never in my life did I ever see Ginny this broken. Not even after I found her in the Chamber.

It's as if all of her bravery, courage, humor, happiness; everything left her. Like before we found her she had given up all hope. The way Ginny said, 'Mummy," was the worst of it all. I've never heard her call Mrs. Weasley, 'Mummy.' And the way she said it today, was indescribable.

"Ginny, your father's here too." Mrs. Weasley says, quietly once Ginny's sobs quiet down slightly.

Ginny loosens her grip on her mum and turns to her father. She's still crying.

"Ginny," Mr. Weasley says, rubbing her arm, "Everything's going to be okay."

She looks up at her dad, her lips still trembling before she pulls him into a hug. This time she opens her eyes, and looks straight at me. Her face is expressionless.

Her dad pulls back a little, "Harry's here too." He says, but she still hasn't broken eye contact with me. She nods slightly.

"We'll go out in the hallway, if you want." Mrs. Weasley says. There's no reaction out of her. I guess that they take it as a yes, because they both go out and wait in the hall.

"Gin?" I ask before taking a seat at the desk that's next to her bed.

"I'm sorry, Harry." She says quietly. I search her eyes; there's nothing behind them.

"No, Gin, you have absolutely no reason to be sorry. I'm just happy you're back." I say before I quickly change my seat to where her dad was sitting. She nods and pulls me into a hug. I kiss her forehead on instinct. I can't tell you how long we sit there. But I can promise you its long.


	6. Miserable

"On average, how many times would you say you ate per day?"

Shrug.

"Alright…When you did eat, what did the meals consist of?"

Shrug.

"Are you going to answer any of my questions?"

Shrug.

"Ginny, please, this is all used to paint a picture on how they need to fix your supplements and diets to help you get back to normal." Mr. Weasley interrupts. But Ginny just looks at him expressionless. She hasn't said a word to any of us since our first encounters.

All of her brothers had come in and she had given them quite similar greetings that she had given her parents and I. But she barely spoke during any of them. And to make matters of the day worse, the healers weren't allowing more than her family to visit her. So, Ron and Hermione took the pleasure of sending the Holyhead Harpies and almost all of Ginny's friends, home. Now, it was her first time talking to her healer as herself. Her complete, potion-free self. But it was going as exactly like how I expected. Badly.

"Ms. Weasley, we all know this is hard for you, but like your father said, it's all needed. We need to make sure we're doing everything right; for your benefit." The healer says. But after moments of silence she lets her irritation get the best of her, "You know what, how about when you're ready to come and talk, call me in." She stands and leaves.

Now the room consists of Ginny, her parents, and I. And the tension that's felt in the room is unbearable. Nothing like I've ever felt before.

"Ginny, those questions shouldn't have been too hard for you to answer…but we understand if you just aren't ready." Mrs. Weasley says, rubbing Ginny's arm. But Ginny stares off into space, her arms crossed, and her eyes vacant. She's not there. And she doesn't want to be there.

"Alright, well I'm going to find some food for lunch." Mrs. Weasley says, heading to the door.

"I'll go with you, Molly." Mr. Weasley says, close behind. That leaves Ginny and I alone again.

We sit for what feels like decades. Neither of us looking each other in the eye. Why is it so awkward for us? What happened that would make us awkward?

"Ginny?" I finally pluck up the courage to say something.

She looks up. Then I realize I have nothing to talk about with her. I can't say anything without reinforcing the fact that she's been gone for all this time.

"This wasn't how I dreamt me coming back would be like." She says quietly.

"What?" I ask, shocked by the fact she just said something, and confused about what it was about.

She shakes her head, "Nothing," She pauses, "You know you don't have to be here right now. I'm sure you have other places you need to be."

"Like where?"

"I dunno, how about your job? I'm sure the _bakery _needs you. Oh wait, that's right you're an auror not a baker. Nice lie by the way. Haven't you wasted enough time here already?"

"Ginny, right here is where I need to be. In here, with you. No one's making me stay; I'm here because I want to be. Why do you want me to be somewhere else?" She just looks at me for a long time before shaking her head. She's mad at me?

"Never mind."

I stand up and walk to the window. Thinking. Something's strange. I expected things to be strange but this is a whole other level of strange.

"So, depending on how everything goes the next few days, the auror department's going to ask you for a statement. Even if you're not ready to talk. They're going to make you." I finally say, turning to face her. Her eyes slightly widen as she looks up at me. If I'm not mistaken, she's scared.

"You mean, like under the influence of Veritiserum?"

"Well, after you were—since everything happened, a lot has changed. The ministry reformed the auror department and now when we question a victim or suspect, for the first time, it's not under the influence of Veritiserum. We give them a chance to be honest with us. And if something seems wrong, or if they mislead us in any slight way. We question them again under the influence, and depending if they're a victim or a suspect, they either get fined or consequences are added to their sentence."

She nods, and takes a deep breath.

"I'm not ready to talk…I don't want to talk."

"Do you not want justice?"

"I do…I just don't want to relive everything to get it." She says, fiddling with the end of her hospital gown. There's a long pause before she speaks up again, "Will some random auror be the one to question me?"

"Why?"

She shrugs, "I don't know. I thought that you or Ron would be the ones to do it."

"We're too close to the situation."

"Yeah, but I'd feel more comfortable to talk to you two rather than any stranger." She lies down on her back and crosses her arms over her chest. There's a dark expression printed on her face. I just started to notice that she's had it there ever since she stopped crying. Its like a dementor is in the room but she's the only one who feels it.

"I'll see if I can work something out. But I can't promise anything."

A knock at the door interrupts our tension-filled conversation, and Hermione walks in. She has a small basket hanging on her forearm which I'm guessing is filled with food.

"Hey, you two. Mrs. Weasley flooed Ron and told him that there was no food here that you'd like, so I thought I'd bring a few things for lunch." Hermione said setting the basket down. "How are you feeling?" She asks looking at Ginny.

"Oh, spectacular. Never in my life have I been in such a wonderland like this place."

"It's nice to know your sarcasm's still in tact." Hermione said taking the seat that's next to Ginny's bed. I slump against the window frame, taking a few moments to relish the fact I'm not alone with Ginny. That's a first.

"It's nice to know that you still speak your mind." Ginny says before glancing at the basket, "I'm not hungry."

"Well if you get hungry, you have food ready." A heavy pause collapses through the roof, and the silence is obviously making Hermione feel slightly out of place.

"Excuse me, Ms. Weasley; I'm here to check your levels." A healer says after entering the room unannounced. Ginny nods and I take this time to excuse myself from the room. Hermione seems to notice my attempt to escape and follows me out.

"Harry?" I hear Hermione say after we get far enough from Ginny's room.

"Yes?" I reply.

"…How are you?" She asks.

"I'm not sure at the moment."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly." Of course, Hermione doesn't take no for an answer and sits down at the nearest bench. I sigh and sit next to her, "For some odd reason I thought that when she was going to be taken off the potions, she'd act like her usual self. Or at least with some of her same qualities. But she's just…miserable. Almost like she doesn't want anything to do with us."

"Well, Harry, that's kind of foolish to think she'd be her normal self. I'm sure she's scared, and broken, and just sad. And the lack of conversation and the pregnant pauses is just a reminder of it…not to mention she doesn't even know that Percy and Audrey _did _get married and had Molly not too long after. And she doesn't know that George and Angelina are engaged. Teddy has had quite a growth spurt for a four year old, and Victoire is speaking in full sentences. She hasn't even seen either of them. Ginny's going to have it rough for the next few months. And all we can do is just sit through the silences and make sure that she stays—well—sane."

"I know…I know. I just—I think I was just envisioning some sort of pipe dream. I think I knew that it wasn't realistic."


	7. White Paint

Ginny

I hear the patter on the window from the rain shower that just ended. The endless, steady taps against the glass are calming yet annoying. Every time a rain drop hits the surface I think, _that was the last one, _and I look out the window at the stars and the moon and the subtle light coming from the city surrounding the hospital but then another drop of water falls. Damn it. This temerity that Mother Nature has to keep me up is ridiculous.

I divert my eyes away from the window and stare up at the ceiling above my bed. The off-white panels look blue against the moonlight. The usual brown stains have retired to a dark purple after being swaddled by the night light.

I'm alone. Well, as alone as I've ever been. I've started to look forward to the nighttime; when the healers' shifts change and the mellower, lackadaisical healers take their positions. One check at ten o'clock to make sure I'm alive and well, and then I'm left to be alone for another eight hours. This is life for me now.

I close my eyes and dream about whatever pops into my head first. The first vision I see is of my mother. We're in the kitchen together. The smell of lunch being made radiates over to the table where a paint easel is set up next to a board that has little puddles of different colored paints. She's saying something to me but I can't hear her. Her mouth is moving but no sound falls out. I look at the board and stick my small index finger into the yellow liquid and start to rub it around the parchment attached to the easel. Then the red. Then the green. Blue. Orange. Pink. Purple. Black.

The only color I don't use is white. Why use white paint if you're painting on white parchment? It's now that I regret leaving the white paint alone. I've always been taught that different colors represent different things. Orange stood for playtime and fun. Yellow stood for sun and beautiful spring days. Pink stood for vanity. White stood for innocence. Something I took for granted all those years ago.

As a child, when you paint pictures on your easel, you always want to save your favorite color. Whatever that color was at that moment in time. In January, it was imperative that you saved the yellow. In March, the green. In May, the blue. Every single time you poured your paint you'd try to conserve the colors that meant a lot to you.

But one day, you'll open up your paint box and see that you have a little paint left. Thank goodness you saved that yellow. Thank Merlin you saved that green. You're lucky you have a little orange left. But when you open up your white paint. It's gone. All dried out. You never tried to conserve you're white when you poured out little puddles on the board. And that painting you were just about to create would just look even better if it had a little white in it.

The day you realize all your white paint is gone, is the day you wish you didn't use it up.

White stands for innocence and it's too late for it now.

Tomorrow, as warned, aurors are going to flood in here and take me to a dark room with a metal table, and start demanding answers to questions they've asked. I'm not ready. There are too many things that could go wrong. I'm innocent. I know I am. But there are things that I'm guilty of. Those things can ruin everything. Especially since they were my last chance of innocence. They were the last drops of my white paint.

What ever I say, they won't believe. The truth will be covered by a 'likely story.' And I'm not ready for that to happen. Harry keeps telling me that I have nothing to hide. Ron tells me everything is going to be okay. But it's not. Neither of them understand what has happened to me. And how could they? They weren't there.

Yes, I'm innocent of crime. Yes, I'm innocent of fraud. No, I'm guilty of knowledge. I knew about this. I knew about everything. But, if they don't get to learn what happened to me. Neither do you.

I hear the noise from the streets of Diagon Alley start to rise. It's morning. Owls are flying across my window with letters in beak. The usual healer comes in to check my levels and ask the same questions that they always do. They get the same answer too. Shrug. They think I'm cracked up. They think I'm not here. But I am. I'm fully aware of everything around me. By nine o'clock my mum and dad will be here with a variety of food for me to eat, and pictures of me when I was five. I understand what they're trying to do. They want me to talk to them. About anything.

And when a moment springs up when my disappearance is apparent, they shrink and change the subject. Why? Saying, 'While you were gone…,' or, 'this past year…,' isn't like saying 'Mudblood.' It's just a factual statement. I was gone. I was absent. I wasn't here. I know. Trust me, I know. They don't understand that going slightly pale and looking down at the ground is more depressing then just to say what they're thinking.

Knock. Knock. Just in time. Speaking of the devils—

"Ginny—good morning, sweetie." Mum says with a brown bag in hand, "How are you feeling?" She asks me. I just shift my gaze to my blanket. This tatty, worn out blanket. And I hear her let out a sad sigh.

"We brought you some food. There's some—"

_How much do you want to bet? Cereal, apples and pudding._

"—cereal, apples and a little bit of pudding in there." Dad says gesturing to the bag. I glance up at him and then play with one of the tassels on my blanket. My parents share a look of sadness to each other, they don't think I'm watching them do it but I definitely see it.

"So…have the healers said anything new?" My mum asks. Shrug, "Is that a no? Yes? I don't know?"

I roll my eyes, "No." I breathe out. My mum nods and plays with the slight tear in the paper bag, "If you two are just going to mope, I'd appreciate it if you did it somewhere else." I finally snap.

That's probably the longest sentence I've said in front of them in over a year.

"We're not moping—we're just tired…haven't been able to sleep very well." I appreciate the try, dad, but you're just not a great liar. There's a deadly pause and then,

"When are you all planning on letting me into everything?"

"What?"

"Never mind." I say annoyed.

"No, tell us." My mom says, putting a hand on my knee.

"It's been over a year. When are you going to tell me what's happened? I know nobody has put their life on hold because I wasn't at the Sunday dinners." My parents glance at each other. "For Merlin's sake!" I say crossing my arms and leaning back onto the metal bed frame.

"What do you want to know?" My dad asks, with a hurt expression.

"I don't know. How many nieces and nephews do I have now? How many sister-in-laws? Who's dead? Who's alive? Who's still in a relationship? Who's not? Has anyone moved? Has anyone been promoted? Why haven't I seen Percy and Audrey for more than five minutes at a time? Anything!"

"Ginny—"

"No! Don't tell me I'm not ready to hear about this. I've been waiting for a good two weeks now. I'm sick of just hearing about cereal, apples and pudding. I'm sick of being asked if I feel okay. I'm sick of it all! Just tell me something of value." I give them a hard stare, "Anything at all."

"Well. Uh. Neville Longbottom moved to Scotland…Hogsmeade actually. He's living with a girl and now teaches at Hogwarts. Herbology teacher." Mum says eyes glued to her fiddling hands.

"Okay, what about Percy?"

"Percy and Audrey…got married, and they have other news but I think _they _want to share it with you."

I nod. I think I know what that news will be.

"George and Angelina are engaged." Dad says.

"Why haven't they told me that?"

"George has been asking Angelina to take the ring off before she comes in here. We all thought it'd be easier for you if you didn't hear any new news." 

"Well. You're wrong." I say before burying my face in my hands and then it all falls out, "And I know. So save it."

"Save what?" My dad asks me, kneeling in front of my bed.

"I know everyone thought I was dead."

Silence.

It's like everyone in the hospital just froze. Like I'm a basilisk and everyone has been petrified. Whoops. The cat was let out of the bag. Judging by my parents faces, I wasn't supposed to know about that.

Silence.

I faintly hear the wheels of medicine carts in the hallways.

Silence.

The ticking of the clock above my door is starting to set my teeth on edge.

Silence.

A cloud must have moved over the sun because the lighting just seemed to get a little darker.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Bloody Silence.

"You know the longer you just stare at me, the worst my mood gets."

"How do you know that, Ginevra?" My dad asks me quietly. His eyes study me carefully like everything I do may lead to some ultimate answer.

I cross my arms and sigh. I look at my blanket and decide to zone out. Stare off into the nonexistent distance.

"Ginevra?" He asks. But I don't respond. I don't want to talk about it. I hate how things take an ugly turn. Well, that was my fault. But if I didn't steer the turn now, it was going to pop its ugly face sometime soon.

I just stay silent for the rest of their visit. They try and try and try to get me to talk. They end up failing. Soon they both leave with a, 'We'll see you for dinner,' and now I'm alone again. Thank Merlin.

I glance at the clock, it been about an hour and a half since they first knocked on my door. The aurors are going to be here around noon. That means I have about another hour and a half to myself.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Bloody hell.

The door swings open and Luna Lovegood comes in with her father. Xenophilius? What is he doing here?

"Hey, Ginny." Luna says with her typical smile.

"Hi." I say before shifting my gaze to her father.

"Hello, Ms. Ginny, it's been such a long time. Plums?" He asks holding up a basket of Dirigible Plums. I can't hide my confusion. But I slightly nod, "Good," he said before taking them out and lining them up on my windowsill.

"I'm sorry, why?" I ask, gesturing to the plums.

"Oh, they're not for eating, silly. They're used to help people see the good in things."

"Okay…"

"You told me earlier that it's weird here. That sometimes you're parents go silent."

"Yeah, when I didn't know who they were." Luna ignores this.

"Well, this will help relieve that tension and help them lighten up a little."

"Okay?" I say as Luna smiles brightly at me.

"So when are they releasing you?" Mr. Lovegood asks.

"As of right now, Wednesday."

"Only five more days! That's brilliant. You haven't been in here long!"

"I've been here for five weeks." I say shortly.

"Could have been six." He says with the same smile Luna always wears.

"I'm sure you'll start to feel like yourself once you get home to the Burrow." Luna says, hopping down into the seat my mum was just sitting in.

"The Burrow? No, I'm going to go back to Grimmauld Place." I say, "That's where I live." Luna's eyebrows furrow.

"No, you don't. That's where Harry lives. You know, once you die you're name is—"

"Luna," Mr. Lovegood cuts her off and puts his index finger to his mouth.

"Dad it's rude to interrupt people. Once you die you're not an owner of that property. Or a resident."

"But I'm not dead. I was just assumed to be."

"Same thing in the Ministry's eyes; technically, you're supposed to live with you're parents because they're your guardians."

"But I'm nineteen years old."

"Twenty." Luna says. There's something about Luna that makes her correcting me on my own age bearable. If Mum or Dad said that to me, I'm sure I would have flipped. But Luna is different. She's benign. Benevolent. You can't get mad at her. It's literally impossible.

"Twenty years old. I'm an adult."

"But, the property is signed to Harry. You'd only legally live there if you were married to him. But since you weren't, the healers are going to discharge you to the Burrow."

I leaned back again and cross my arms. I guess it won't be that bad. I mean, growing up at the Burrow was quite pleasurable. I had lived in a cozy house that was smaller but packed for an adventure for everyday. I had a field that I could run around in. Our biggest Christmas gift ever, was the Quidditch Pitch Dad had given the family. Well, he bought the supplies to build six hoops and a small bench but to us that was everything. It's now that I realize I haven't gotten up and walked around since noon yesterday. Almost twenty four hours ago, "Luna, do you mind if we go for a walk around the hospital?"

"Would they allow that?"

"Yeah; just around the patient's common area. That's where all us crazies play board games and play piano and such." I say pushing the blanket, which has been covering me for all this time, aside.

"Daddy, how about you go shopping, I'll meet you in the waiting room in about an hour. I'm going to meet Ginny's new friends." Luna says smiling at her father. Xenophilius makes no argument and leaves. I was surprised by this, but I guess that's how the Lovegoods live there life; not questioning each other and just going with their first instinct. Slightly bizarre but understandable.

Luna and I leave my room, and walk slowly to the common area. There are old, worn, wooden tables with wizard chess' boards on top of them and torn couches that line the walls. There's a rotting piano sitting in the corner, and some child, I'm guessing around the age of nine or ten, watching his father try to play it. Everyone here looks like zombies. Empty shells. Like all their paint is dried up and all that was left were the hollow bottles.

Luna and I walk to the couch on the far end of the room for one reason only; it's the only one that doesn't smell like Hippogriff dung. There's a dilapidated coffee table sitting in front the couch with a stack of old magazines on top of it. Luna starts talking but I don't hear her because the magazine on top of the pile catches my eye. It's a _Witch Weekly. _The Wizarding World's top rated gossip column magazine. Contains tabloids, quizzes, and 'the new hottest trends.'

The cover is a picture of Harry. You can only see him from behind, but I can tell it's him. And next to him; a girl. A girl I have no memory of. It's not me. It's not Hermione. It's not Luna. Or Hannah. Or Padma. Or any of my brother's girlfriends. This girl has straight brown hair and is a lot shorter than Harry. On the top of the cover lie a few words, in bright, bold yellow font; _'Harry Potter's New Girlfriend!'_

**A/N: So what did you think about this chapter? I tried really hard to make it longer and to make it realistic. I feel as though Ginny would just be purely angry. **

** Do you think that Ginny has a right to be angry? To be moody? Sad? Grumpy? Or do you think she's being a bit over the top? Tell me!**


	8. Questions Answered

"Have we even checked the credibility of the story?"

"We can't, it was an anonymous source. And I think it's pretty credible; two kids were sent to St. Mungo's for it."

"Yeah, but that all could have been a hoax," Perks replies. No, Perks, it can't be. Those kids were pretty beaten up by whatever dark magic they found in that house.

It's been about a two months since we found her, and our investigation has been in the same place since last March. Well, beside the fact that Ginny is now safe in St. Mungo's.

"Maybe we should analyze the surveillance charms at the Harpies Pitch one more time?" Ron suggests.

"We've already watched them six times; you never see the kidnapper's face; just a small shadow." Barre says in a bored tone.

"That could be a bird; how do we know if Weasley is even telling the truth? She could have run off for some dramatic, girl reason and fake a story to get back to her life without running into trouble." Perks says, annoyed with us all.

I guess he's forgotten that Ginny's brother and boyfriend are in the room. I just keep my mouth shut. You'd think that my relationship with her would make me want to work on the case. Make me want to seek revenge on the kidnapper. But, in all honesty, I just want to go spend time with her. She was gone for almost a year. Every day of that time I spent thinking about her; missing her; praying she'd come home. And now that she is, what am I doing? I'm spending over ten hours of each day at work, sitting in on meetings that get nothing done with people who don't really care. Well, except for Ron.

Yes, I want revenge. Yes, I want justice. But, I want to make sure Ginny is doing okay. Whenever I come by, she's quiet. I find that the most unnerving part of it all. Ginny Weasley, wild, courageous, free, is now sitting in a hospital room, losing her mind.

I can tell she's going insane. Not in the ways that are worrying, but in the ways where I know she's itching to go home, itching to go fly, itching to go talk to people for more than an hour at a time.

"Six o'clock, boys. We're not going to get anything done today. Meeting dismissed. See you all Monday." Robards says, closing up Ginny's case file.

Finally. I crack my neck and sigh. One thing came out of this meeting. Ginny is going to be taken into questioning tomorrow. Is she ready for it? I'm not sure. If she can't talk in front of me, how are they expecting her to talk in front of a complete stranger under a blinding, white light?

Ron taps my shoulder. I must have zoned out again.

"Are you visiting Gin tonight?" He asks.

"Yeah, I've got nothing else to do on a Friday night." He nods. But I can tell he has something he wants to ask.

"What do you think is going to happen when she meets her new nieces?"

"I'm not focusing on that at the moment. Something is bothering her, though. I just wish I could put my finger on it."

"She'll talk when she's ready."

"No, it's not that. I used to be able to read her. I can't anymore."

Ron sighs and sends me a sympathetic look. I take it as he doesn't know what to say, so I just nod and rise from my chair.

We lock the conference room and leave to go to our girlfriends. But there's a difference. He's going to his girlfriend who is waiting for him at home, I'm going to my girlfriend who's dressed in a white hospital gown and is sitting in a fetal position in her cot.

I approach the desk where Madame Richard is lazily flipping through a magazine.

"Just go in, Mr. Potter." She says, casually, not even looking up.

I walk through the halls until I reach Gin's room. I take a deep breath before opening the door. She jumps and then relaxes when she realizes it's just me.

"Hey." I say as I take a seat near the desk. She gives me a half smile that doesn't meet her eyes. "So, have you had many visitors today?"

She nods and starts to pick her nails.

"I heard some aurors came in today to tell you what will happen tomorrow." She nods again but her eyes drift from her fingers to the space in front of her.

"What's wrong?" Her eyes focus on mine for a second but then she just shakes her head. No words. She never talks to me. Why do I take it personally? Well, according to the healers, she's spoken with Luna, and her parents. She'll talk to the other patients. But not me. Why? I don't know.

* * *

_"Harry! Stop!" Ginny laughs, as I take another photo. It had been a lazy day in Grimmauld Place, and we had found an old camera in one of the dusty rooms. We had just been messing around with it, laughing, taking pictures of each other. _

_"That's not fair; you took like six hundred pictures of me!" I reply holding the camera out of her reach. _

_"Yeah, but you looked fine." She giggles. But, I don't think I looked as good as she does right now. She's wearing a pair of light pink shorts and a white tank top. She's wearing her hair in a sloppy ponytail with a floppy, light pink hair bow tied around it. _

_We're just sitting in bed, laughing. I love these types of days the most. When she forces me to call in sick and then spend the day with her. She reaches around me to get the camera out of my hands._

_"You can try to get it but you won't!" I say, smiling as her tongue peeks out from her lips, as if she's putting all of her focus on getting this old camera out of my hands. _

_All of a sudden, she stops try to reach the camera, and smiles. Her eyes glance down at my lips and I know what her plan is. She leans in and softly touches her lips to mine. Now I'd be lying if I say I don't kiss her back, but I'm not going to let her win; especially when I feel her start to slowly reach for the camera again. _

_I take this opportunity to place the camera on the floor by my nightstand, and roll to pin her between me and the sheets. She giggles and breaks the kiss. _

_I sigh, smile down at her and whisper, "I love you, Gin."_

_"I love you too, four eyes." She says, smiling._

_"Hey! Technically, you're supposed to be four eyes, too." _

_"Yeah, but it has to take an army to get me to wear glasses." _

_I laugh and kiss her again._

_"Besides, glasses look better on you." She says._

* * *

In my mind, I see that smile on her face, but in reality, it doesn't seem to exist.

"Do you want any food?" I ask.

"No."

"Have you had dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Gin, what do y—"

"Are you still seeing her?" She says, out of the blue.

"Who?"

"I don't know her name." She says, her eyebrows furrowed with discomfort, "Don't end your relationship with her because I'm back. You deserve happiness."

"Gin, I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not angry, Harry. I just don't want you to waste your time waiting for me to come around."

"Wait, can you just backtrack for me? Where is this 'relationship' coming from?"

"I saw a magazine in the common area. The cover had a picture of you linking arms with another woman. It's okay, you know, I was presumed dead; if she makes you happy then stay with her." The realization struck me. She saw a picture of Caroline. Probably taken by a slimy reporter.

"Oh, Ginny, that is honestly no one. Ron and Hermione set me up on a blind date, so I'd have someone to confide in, but it was disastrous; I wasn't ready to see anyone but you. I was just walking her home after they'd ditched us." I say, watching her carefully.

"You didn't date her?" She asks me with concern.

"No; I haven't spoken to her since." She gives me a skeptical look before diverting her eyes back to her fingernails, "I'm being honest, Ginny. I haven't seen anyone since you disappeared. I never really accepted the fact you were supposedly gone."

She looks at me again. But this time, she seems relieved.

* * *

Ginny

"Alright, Ms. Weasley, time to go." The husky man tells me as he grabs my arm and leads me out of my cellar—well, room. I keep quiet and follow his demands. I'm not sure if I'm ready for this. For the men to bark at me and treat me like I'm the bad guy.

We walk to St. Mungo's apparition point and I'm immediately sucked into a tube that lets out in the Ministry of Magic. He guides me through the wide, black marble halls, and I'm met with a stone statue in the middle of the Atrium. It's not the same statue that I remember standing there when I was fourteen. _'Magic is Might' _had been replaced with the scripture, _'Magic is equal'_ and the stone muggles that were being crushed under the ministry's symbol had been changed to a group of stone wizards levitating the rock above. For me, this is the sign of peace. That the ministry was finally under the right hands.

But, that might just be a bias thought of mine, being that the Minister is a close family friend and the Deputy Minister is my father.

The brunette auror pulls me away from the statue and into one of the elevators nearby. It's crowded with witches and wizards that are flipping through files and departmental memos floating above. The auror presses the button to go to level thirty-six. I give him a confused look. I clearly remember Dumbledore instructing Harry that his interrogation would be in the Department of Mysteries.

"Interrogation rooms for witnesses and victims aren't on the same level as the ones for felons. The interrogation room we're going to doesn't have a place for a jury; just a table and two chairs."

I nod and am taken off my balance when the elevator jerks back before rising. Fast.

"Excuse me," a pudgy man on my right says, "are you Ginny Weasley?"

I open my mouth to answer but the burley auror tightens his grip on my arm and answers for me, "We are not here to answer questions to anyone but aurors." The pudgy man looks away, obviously embarrassed.

I place my hand on his shoulder and give him a quick smile, sure that may piss off whatever-his-name-is, but I don't care. There is never a reason to make someone feel lower than you.

_"Level thirty-six; Auror Department." _A cool woman's voice says from the speakers above my head. The auror pushes me forward and leads me down the dingy halls of level thirty-six.

I can't understand how Harry and Ron can come to work here everyday of their lives. I haven't seen a single person, but I can feel the stress and the tension in the air, and I can hear the crumbling of paper and the annoyed grunts from the closed doors lining the corridor.

"In here." The man says as he takes out his wand and silently unlocks the door with some special spell only a select few know. I am told to sit down on the chair facing a mirror, and then I'm left alone, locked in a room, just like I am at St. Mungo's. But, there's a difference here; I know that that 'mirror' has a group of aurors behind it, and I know that whoever they are, they're watching me. Trying to tell if I'm lying, or am guilty of anything.

A man walks in and closes the door behind him. I've never seen him before in my life. He sits down on the opposing seat from me and opens up a manila folder.

"Hello, Ms. Weasley." He says in a syrupy way, "I'm just going to ask you a few questions about the events that have occurred over the past year."

* * *

Harry

I stand on this side of the window and watch as Barre starts to interrogate Ginny. I can't tell if she's nervous or annoyed; her expression is unreadable. Like usual. Ron is standing beside me, leaning on the wall that frames the 'mirror'. Now, he, I can tell is nervous. We're about to hear the story of this past year unfold.

Ginny just watches the man intently; she's studying him to see if she's viewed as the criminal or the victim. I've noticed she does this a lot over the past five weeks. Or maybe over the past nine years. I can't remember.

She was sending me the exact same looks last night. When she asked me about Caroline. I understand that she may feel as though she's not apart of my life anymore; she made that clear with her quiet composure. But, in all honesty, she's more apart of my life than she was a year ago.

"Mate?" Ron interrupts my thoughts, "You alright?"

"Yeah, just want this interrogation to start already."

* * *

Ginny

"So, where were you when you were attacked?" Auror Barre asks. I take a deep breath and watch him carefully.

"The Harpies Pitch." I reply.

"Do you know the approximate time?"

"Nine, ten o'clock at night, I don't know." I say, fidgeting my hands.

"Who would you say saw you last?"

"Gwenog Jones…she asked me if I wanted her to stay with me."

"Why did you say no?" He asks me, quizzically.

"I don't know. I didn't want to keep her there; she had a husband to go home to."

"But, polishing the broomsticks is hard work; time consuming, wouldn't you want help to finish the job early? Wouldn't you want to get home to your boyfriend?" I shrug.

"It just didn't cross my mind."

"Didn't cross your mind?" Barre repeats. "Tell me, Ginny, since you were admitted into St. Mungo's you've been reported as withdrawn, quiet, and unwilling to recover. I guess my question is that there are so many great doctors, professionals who would be glad to listen to you, why haven't you confided in them?"

"Why? I don't know; I'm just a private person." I say sharply.

"Why the sudden edge in your answer?" I roll my eyes and shake my head. I take one deep breath and pause for a moment.

"There's no edge." I reply as calmly as possible.

"Okay, well let's take a break from that subject, eh?" He asks, "We have retrieved the surveillance charm from the Pitch that evening, but on it, we can't see the attackers face. Actually, let me amend my statement, we can't see the attacker at all. So, I was hoping that you could, I don't know, give us a description of his appearance."

I shrug, and look over to the wall. The gray, cement blocks on the wall are suddenly interesting to me. I don't want to think back to his face. And to be honest, I rarely saw him.

"Ms. Weasley, this all is to ensure your safety and justice, now if you don't want to cooperate, then I'll end this session and have the case dropped. But, if you do cooperate then I can promise that your attacker will be arrested and locked away for a long time."

I look up at the man for a long thirty seconds, shift in my seat, and look away once more.

"Alright, Ms. Weasley, that'll be all for now." He says closing the manila folder and walking through the door that leads to the concealed room.

* * *

Harry

Watching Ginny's interrogation was difficult and it angered me a little that she wasn't cooperating. Barre walks into the watch room and shakes his head.

"If she's not going to answer the questions, there's no point in asking them." He says throwing the manila folder on the table.

"Does she have anything to hide? Maybe she feels as though she's being accused." Ron suggests.

"Well, she will be if she doesn't talk. The more she stays quiet, the worse it's going to look for her. Maybe she will answer questions to someone she knows she can trust." He says looking my direction.

"I don't know. Robards specifically said that he wanted you to question her." I reply glancing through the two-way mirror at Ginny.

"Fine, I'll go and get his permission to send you in." Barre said leaving the watch room. A few moments of silence overtake the room. Ron glances at me nervously then back at Ginny.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Think she has something to hide?" Ron asks. My eyes reach his and I start to think.

"She may. I know that Ginny's stubborn but she shouldn't be this stubborn."

"Do you think she ran away; not been kidnapped?" Ron asks quietly.

"I don't see any reason for her to; she was happy. Why would she run away if everything was going perfectly for her?"

"Well, maybe something was going on that you didn't know about. Did she mention anything to you that seemed to bother her?"

"I don't remember; that was a year ago."

Silence overcomes the room once more and in only a few minutes Barre returns with Robards at his side. Robards looks at me and nods. That means I'm now ordered to go and question Ginny. Maybe she'll talk to me. I pick up the discarded manila folder and walk into the interrogation room.

Ginny looks up at me and I can see that she's relieved to see me. I take the seat across from her and open up the file.

"Alright, Ginny, they're going to put this case on hold if you don't give us a statement. Your lack of cooperation is giving the department alternate ideas of what happened, and not all of them are in your favor." I pause, and notice her expression hasn't faltered. I change my posture and voice into the normal auror essence, "Can you please give a description of your offender?"

She looks at me for a few seconds and then looks away. I can see something starting to build up in her. Her lip starts to tremble, not noticeably but I can see it start. She gulps and looks back at me, the lower lids of her eyes forming a glassy coat.

"Brownish-blonde, long hair, larger man with something wrong with him…" She whispers.

"What do you mean by that?"

"He's not like us; I think he has a disability." I take a deep breath and scribble out what she said.

"Had you ever seen him before that day?" I ask.

"I don't think so, but I could have; at a meet-n-greet, or a match."

"Did he ever mention why he went after you."

She looked at me and nodded. One deep breath and she started,

"Yeah, he did…


	9. Welcome Home

"_Did he ever mention why he went after you?"_

"_Yeah, he did…"_

My eyes soften as I see the visible change in her posture, "Why?"

She shifts in her seat and then looks at the mirror behind my head. I guess she knows that if I was behind that glass, so was Ron. Her eyes flicker back onto mine before redirecting back to her hands.

"He was a fan of mine for a long time." I start to scribble down the words as she says them, "He said that I helped him one day on the streets, or something. I don't remember that, and I don't remember seeing his face until, you know, the day. Apparently, he fell in love with me; he thought that that gesture of helping him up from falling or something, was a gesture of interest in him. So, he started to follow my every move." She glances up and thinks back, "N-not like physically following me, but he had every _Witch Weekly _and _Daily Prophet _article that had my face on it, and he had pictures from the paparazzi."

"Is there anything else?" I ask, finishing her last sentence, she glances up at me and then back down to her hands. "Do you know his name?"

She shakes she head, "When I woke up the next day, he was freaking out; pacing, making weird grunting noises, pulling at his hair; I didn't know what to think so I tried to act asleep still. He started to cry and just repeated the same thing to himself about how he was wrong. I guess he noticed I was awake and he got really close to me and told me that he was sorry and that he made a mistake going to visit last night."

"But you never heard his name?"

"He was too scared to tell me; he knew what would happen if I got out and he didn't want to get in trouble."

"Did he ever harass you?" I look up from the paper and see her furrow her eyebrows, "Sexually harass you?"

"No, he never touched me." She gulps, "I didn't see him that much. When I woke up there would be a plate of food sitting next to the cot but he wouldn't show himself when I was awake."

"And he was a wizard?"

"I never saw his wand or him perform any magic but, he knew me and he knew Holyhead Harpies. He would go to our games."

"So, you're saying he could be a squib?"

"Could be, but, that doesn't mean he is."

"And, is there anything else you want to tell me?" I ask, closing the manila folder. She shakes her head and watches me closely, as if she was wondering if she could see what the results of this interrogation was. "Well, Auror Kravitz is going to take you back to St. Mungo's."

"Why not you?" She pipes up. I reconnect our eyes and send her a small smile.

"I've got a few things to do this afternoon, but I'll be around after work." I get up and exit the room and enter the watch room.

"She gave a pretty unspecific physical description but how she described the behavior, I think the man has Derealization Syndrome." Robards says looking up from a large book.

"What's the similarities?" Ron asks.

"_Subject usually makes extreme choices that lead to crisis. In time of the crisis, subject usually panic due to the underlying anxiety._"

"What else comes with it?" Barre inquires.

"_Emotional response to loved ones can be reduced-feelings of deja vu are normal and usually occurring, there is a level of ignorant behavior; not accepting certain aspects of a situation, choosing to believe that everything is under control. Perceives things in third person." _

"What causes it?"

"_An untreated, mild head injury. Can be a symptom for other disorders." _

"What other disorders? This doesn't sound completely like how Ginny described it."

"_Borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder, dissociative personality disorder, schizophrenia…"_

"Read the schizophrenia article." I say, taking a seat by the window. Robards flips through a few pages and then skims down the one he stops on.

"_Seen by not recognizing what is false and what is real, known to have false beliefs, confused thinking, and auditory hallucinations. Isn't a multiple personality syndrome but does consider to have a split in mental functions. Can suffer from social anxiety and paranoia." _

"Causes?"

"_Can be from familial attributes or natural attributes." _

"So, we're looking for someone with long, brownish-blonde hair, a little more weight, with a possible head injury, that doesn't speak to many people and is known to go to Harpies games."

"I don't know if he'd still go to the Harpies games after what happened with Ginny. I suspect he feels guilty; he wouldn't want to go back to where he made the fatal mistake."

"But, he could want to go back in order to honor her. To make up for what he did."

"Ginny'll need to meet with a sketch artist, at the moment we don't have much to go off."

* * *

Ginny

There's a knock on my door and then the sound of it opening. I look up and see my mother and father walking into my room.

"Oh, Ginny, we didn't mean to wake you." My mum says sitting on the end of my bed. I glance at the clock on the wall; I napped for an hour, and rub the sleep out of my eyes. "How was the meeting with the aurors this morning?"

"Did Ron floo you?" I ask, readjusting the blankets on the bed.

"No, should he have?"

"No; just wondering. And it was okay."

She gives me a sad smile and glances over at my father, "So, you're being discharged tomorrow. You'll be out of this place and finally be home."

"I'm going to the Burrow?" I ask, quietly.

She nods her head, "I know you would much rather go to Grimmauld Place, but you're discharged under our care so you have to come home." I nod and play with the fray on the blanket.

"When am I going to see Teddy?" I ask, making eye contact with my dad, "Or Victoire?"

"Do you want to see them soon?"

"Of course."

"Well, I can ask Andy if Teddy can welcome you home."

"What about Victoire?" Her mother's small smile dropped.

"We'll get to Victoire when we get to Victoire."

"What? Is she okay?"

"Yes, darling, more than okay; but, Bill and Fleur want to wait for her to see you." Mum explains. I rest my head on the wall behind me and sigh. There have been more secrets than information coming from my mum and dad and I'm sick of it.

"We were wondering if you'd want your friends and family welcome you home? You know, the Harpies and Seamus, Neville, Dea-"

"No, I just want a few people."

"Like who?"

"You two, Harry, Teddy, and maybe Ron and Hermione."

"Why just them?" Mum asks, gently.

"They're the only people I can face at the moment."

"What about your other brothers?"

"I just want Ron, Hermione, Harry and Teddy. They can visit after I'm settled; but not right off the bat, please."

"Okay, that can be arranged, Gin." Dad says from the seat next to me. There's a knock at the door and Harry shows himself in the doorway.

"Sorry to interrupt." Harry says once he notices my parents, "I can wait in the waitin-"

"Nonsense, Harry," My father gestures him to come in, "how're you?"

"I'm doing okay, how about yourself?"

My dad claps Harry on the back, "Doing well. Just got off of work?"

"Er, yeah. They dismissed us so they could prep for the next step in the investigation."

I glance at my mum, she's studying Harry as if she wants him to say more. Harry's eyes flicker to me and immediately I feel my stomach drop. He has something to say, but he doesn't want me to hear. What is it? Was there a breakthrough on my case? Wow, that was fast. Criminal caught in the matter of three hours.

"We still don't know who it is, so Ginny, they told me to deliver the message that they will want you to meet with a sketch artist in the next few days."

Never mind.

"Okay." I whisper, a little heartbroken that I got my hopes up.

"We were just planning Ginny's homecoming tomorrow. By any chance, would you be able to get Teddy there tomorrow? I know I have to ask Andromeda still."

Harry's eyes still were on me, "Of course, I can."

"Perfect, then all I need to do is ask Ron and Hermione and then start cooking. Ginny, what do you want for food? Fish? Chicken? You always loved my chicken soup, sure it's summer right now but anything goes for tomorr-"

"I don't care what you make, Mum, as long as it's not provided by this place." I smile at her, probably one of the first times I have smiled in front of my parents since they took me off those bloody potions.

Her face elates in happiness, "Then I'll make you everything out of my mother's cookbook."

"You don't have to do that, Mum, I mean; it's just a normal day an-"

"Nonsense; it's a day where you finally can come home to a cozy bed, a nice atmosphere, and quality food." I snort at my mother's judgement on her own food; not even humble.

"Well, Molly, it seems as though you'll have a lot of work to do. Maybe we should bid our goodbyes and get home to start cooking." Dad says, standing up nodding toward Harry.

"You're right. Ginny, we'll see you in the morning to take you home." My mum kisses my head, "I love you, dear."

"Love you, too." I whisper back. She moves out of the way for my father to say goodbye.

He kisses my cheek and quietly whispers, "Love you, Ginbug."

"Love you, too, Dad." I say in the same fashion as before. "Bye, Mum. Bye, Dad." They say their goodbyes to Harry and wave out of the room. Harry watches them leave before turning to me and giving me a half smile.

"How're you feeling?" He asks, taking a seat where my mum just sat.

"Better," I say, before taking a deep breath, "but some tea would be nice."

"I can go ask the healers for some," he makes a move to get up.

"No, Harry, I've tried that." I say, grabbing his forearm, "They don't want me to have any caffeine."

"That's why they invented decaf."

"I tried that card; they brushed it off, obviously not wanting me to have any."

"I can ask for some for myself and then slip it to you." He says, completely serious.

I laugh at his determination to get me this cup of tea, "Harry, just forget about it." He smiles at my laugh. I click my tongue a couple of times before asking the question that's been nagging my mind since he arrived, "Are you allowed to tell me anything about my case?"

He raises his eyebrows at me before scrunching his nose, "Depends; what do you want to know?"

I look at him incredulously, as if it's obvious, "Oh, I don't know, maybe, do you have any suspects?"

"I can't give you that information, but seeing as though it wouldn't matter either way, we don't have any."

"None?" I ask, shocked.

"That's why we need you to do a sketch meeting with a sketch artist."

I nod, and look around the room, as if I'm processing this information. His hand lands on my knee and my eyes immediately flash to it. He sees my instant reaction and pulls it away from my leg.

"Sorry," He murmurs, "habit." I nod with an understanding smile, but I wish he put it back. It had just caught me off guard; if he did it slower or maybe did it with some sort of warning, I wouldn't have jumped and then he wouldn't have pulled it away. Wait, why am I think about his hand right now?

He sighs before clearing his throat, "I know Teddy is excited to see you; he's been asking me questions about you since I told him you were back in town."

"What did you tell him while I was gone?" I ask, quietly. Not hurt by this matter but just out of curiosity.

Harry tilts his head back and forth, "It changed a few times. At first, I told him you went for a trip with the Harpies and then we had to attend your-uh-y-your-"

"My funeral." I supply for him.

He nods sadly, "Your funeral and I told him that Aunt Ginny wasn't going to be around anymore. That you were living with his mum and dad and preparing everything for him. But, when we found you, I told him that you missed us and decided to come back. He's been really excited since." I smile at the last statement, "Unfortunately, I may have said the wrong thing because he asked me why Mummy and Daddy aren't coming back too."

"What did you tell him?" I ask, worriedly.

"I told him that they couldn't, because they had to keep the house in order." His eyes glazed on his folded hands, "I know that wasn't the right thing to say, but I panicked. I just couldn't bring myself to tell him that hi-"

I place my hand on his shoulder and he looks up at me, "You can explain things to him when he's older. He's only four; humoring him a little longer won't hurt."

"Here I am, sitting in your cot at the mental ward and _you're _the one comforting _me. _Ironic, isn't it?" He says, quietly.

"Yeah, but hey, I'm just happy its not me for once." He smiles at me and I'm smiling at him. His eyes flicker to my lips as do mine. It's going to happen, it's going to happen. We hadn't since the day of the attack, and here I am, fifteen again, freaking out as he slowly leans forward.

_Click._

"Sorry to rain on your parade, but visiting hours are over." Harry pulls back and nods. He glances at me, face flushed.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Gin." He mumbles before leaving the room. Damn. We were so close. Curse Madame Richard for ruining my moment.

* * *

"Are you ready, darling?" My mum asks, as she crutches me up the stairs of the porch.

"Mum, I'm not crippled; I can walk on my own." I laugh but she shushes me.

"Alright, here we are," She puts her hand on the doorknob, "Welcome home, Ginny." She opens the door. I expect a group of people behind the door, all going to yell surprise. Nope. Nothing. It was one of the most anti-climactic moments in my life. The door creaks as it opens. The inside of the Burrow is exactly as I remember it. There's a pan charmed to clean itself in the sink, a constant creaking around the ceiling, and the comfort of clustered furniture.

My heart wells with nostalgia. I can sense my mum watching me as I look around the house. My eyes flash to the family clock. My face is on 'home'. I smile at the faces that are smiling back at me. Wait, who's that?

A hand creeps on my shoulder, "They're all in the living room." She smiles at me. I nod, she obviously didn't notice my discovery. I slowly walk from the small kitchen and into the living room.

Upon my entry, the four stand up, "Welcome home, Ginny." Ron says with a small smile. I smile back and then my eyes go directly to Teddy. He runs up to me and hugs my knees.

"Thank you for coming back, Aunt Ginny." I press my lips together to hold in a sob. If anyone in this room would make me cry it would be Teddy. I bend down to his eye level.

"Trust me, the pleasure is all mine." I say as he wraps his arms around my neck. He's gotten so big; too big to be carried, speaking in full sentences. My heart swells some more as I realize I've missed so much of his young life.

I kiss his cheek and pull back to look at his face. His features have matured, he smiles at me with tears in his eyes, "Teddy, are you crying too?" I ask, wiping away some of the stray tears that got away from me. He nods and hugs me one more time.

"Daddy said that you weren't coming back." My eyes flicker to Harry at the word 'daddy'. He diverts his eyes from mine and rubs the back of his neck. Seems another thing had changed this past year. Before my-uh-leave, Harry decided that he didn't want Teddy to call him 'dad', to be sure that Teddy knew about his parents. 'Uncle Harry' was enough for Harry, he felt as though he was honoring Remus and Tonks as leaving the valuable names to them. I've missed so much, and I'm sure Harry is flattered by the term now, since, for a year, Teddy _was _all he had left.

"Well, I'm back now, Teddy. And I'm not leaving again." He nods in understanding and runs back over to Harry, who held his shoulders against his legs. I smile at the sight, very father-son like. I turn to Ron and hug him for a long while. He sniffles behind me and I shake my head.

"You're not crying now, are you?" I say before leaning back to see his face. He wipes his eyes and shakes his head, "I'll allow it this once." I joke. He chuckles at me, and I turn to Hermione who has flowing tears down her cheeks.

"Oh, Hermione." I say, pulling her in for a long awaited hug.

"It's just so surreal." She whispers in my ear. I nod and squeeze her tighter.

I pull away and smile at her, "Hopefully you didn't give my position away."

"No, you'll always be my best friend." I smile at her and nod. I turn to Harry, who has no tears flowing down his face, just a crooked, satisfied grin. He pulls me in for a very firm hug. It feels just like how he used to hug me. I stay in my hug with him the longest. I've missed the smell of him, the warmth of his chest, the way he rocks back and forth when he hugs me and only me.

"Auntie Ginny, do you want to see my new books?" Teddy interrupts by pulling the bottom of my sweatshirt. I look down to the little boy and send him a smile.

"Of course, I want to, Ted." He runs over to a basket on the other side of the room and crouches in front of it.

"Let's sit." Hermione says, sitting with Ron. Harry and I sit in our old spots on the loveseat. I feel a little awkward and out of place but on the contrary I feel at home, and finally, completely safe. Teddy runs back over to the couch and climbs up onto my lap.

"This one is _Hippogriff Takes Wimbourne_, Its about a Hippogriff going to muggle Wimbourne and seeing all these cool muggle things. Poppy gave it to me last christmas." I smile when I hear Teddy acknowledge my dad as 'Poppy'; haven't heard that in a while, "And this is _Babbity Rabbity, _Uncle Ron gave it to me for my birthday. Daddy gave me this one," he points to _Kneazles, Kneazles Everywhere, _"when he came home from his last trip."

I glance at Harry who is just watching his godson in a very solemn way, "What else did you get for your birthday, Teddy?"

"Grandmum gave me a jar of sand that my mum had in her room; she told me its from...where is it from, Daddy?"

Harry turns a slight shade of pink, "It's from Egypt."

Teddy nods and continues, "From Egypt, Nanny gave me a teddy bear with my name on it!" Teddy says in amazement. That's a Weasley tradition; I have a teddy bear up in my room with _Ginevra _stitched on the stomach.

"That's so cool, Teddy."

"Victoire is getting one for Christmas; Nanny told me to keep it quiet from her though."

"Really?"

"And then I guess Dominique will get one too when she's older." He says turning back to his books. In my peripheral vision I can see the trio visibly tighten at the mention of Dominique's name. I choose to not let it phase me.

"Well, of course she will; did you know I have one too?" Teddy shook his head, "So does Uncle Ron."

"Where's yours?"

"Up in my room, last time I checked."

"Can I go look at it?" He asks, excitedly. I smile at his enthusiasm just to see an old teddy bear.

"Sure; do you want me to come with you?" He nods and takes my hand.

"Teddy, you don't need Ginny to go with you." Harry says from behind me.

I wave it off, "It's fine, Harry; I want to go see my room, anyway." Teddy and I walk up the crooked staircase until I reach the door with my name painted on the top. Teddy pushes the door open and the pale, yellow walls are exposed. I let go of Teddy's hand so he can go search for the bear on my bed. Taking a couple of steps into the room, I stuff my hands in my back pockets and glance around. It's like I never left. Nothing has changed except for the fact that my bed is now made.

"Is this it?" Teddy asks holding up Bitty.

"Yeah, that's her. Her name is Bitty." Teddy looks at the bear and traces the stitching with his fingers.

"Her name is Bitty but it says Ginee-Ginerv-Gin-"

"Ginevra." I say for him.

"Ginever." He butchers the name.

"Yeah, I didn't want her to be stuck with the same name as me so I gave her a new name."

My mum's voice rings from downstairs, "Ginny! Teddy! Lunch is ready, dears!" Teddy carefully perches the bear back against the pillows and runs to me to take my hand. We walk down the stairs and into the kitchen where Mum is already placing food on Teddy's plate. Teddy takes off and sits on the chair with a bump-up for him to reach his plate. I take the other seat next to Harry and notice that all eyes are on me.

"Who's hungry?" I say to relieve the awkward tension.

"Oh, sorry, dear. Um, would you like some chicken? Or mash? Just tell me what you want and I'll get it for you." My mum coos gesturing to all the food.

"That's alright, Mum; I can get my own food."

"Of course, dear." She says taking her seat again. I take the spoon to the mash and shovel it onto my plate.

"So, Hermione, how's the promotion going?" My dad starts.

"Oh, you know, a bit more hectic, but basically the same as it was before."

"When were you promoted?" I ask as I cut my chicken.

She freezes and turns red, "In April." It seems like no matter what I say, I'm flinging the fact that I've been gone for a past year.

* * *

"Thank you, Mum, Dad. It was a great meal." Ron says, kissing Mum on the cheek.

"It was nice having you home." Mum replies patting his hand. He smiles and Dad claps him on the shoulder.

"Hope you have a good first night, Gin." He says, kissing my head and giving me a hug.

"I hope I do, too." I reply after he pulls away. Ron and Hermione walk out to the apparation point and disappear to their flat. Mum and Dad reenter the house, leaving Harry and I on the porch.

He seems to be looking at the stars in the sky. I smile at his interest, "Are you leaving soon?" He looks back at me with a blank expression.

"Probably within the next hour." He answered, leaning on the rail of the porch. I walk to stand next to him, and look out on the field that surround the Burrow.

"It feels like an ordinary night," I say, watching the wheat sway with the breeze, "like nothing's changed."

"Deceiving since everything's changed." I glance at him and he's studying me.

"A promotion, an engagement, a new baby, Teddy calling you 'Daddy'. Yeah, everything's changed."

"You didn't seem surprised when Teddy mentioned Dominique."

"I saw the family clock and the new baby's face," I say, calmly, "Is that why Bill and Fleur didn't want me to see Victoire? Because with Victoire comes Dominique?"

"Yeah, and with Percy and Audrey comes Molly."

"Molly?" Harry squeezed his eyes shut, like he couldn't believe what he just said.

I study his face, "Another baby?" He looks at me with a sad expression.

"She's not even two months old." He says, quietly.

"She's not on the clock yet." I reason, more for myself than for Harry.

"I'm really sorry, Ginny."

"It's okay; life wouldn't stop just because I was absent." For some odd reason, I'm at peace with this. A lot more peace than what I thought I'd be in. I sigh, "So, 'Daddy'?"

He glances at me guiltily, "Yeah, Teddy started that a few months ago. He didn't want me to be his uncle anymore, because he wanted a dad, and I was the only thing that represented a dad to him. So, he started to call me that, and after a while, I started to let him."

"I think it's sweet. I'm glad you took that step." He turns to face me, his eyes have a peaceful gleam to them.

"Thank you, for humoring him with his books and all of his imaginary friends after dinner."

"I wasn't humoring him, though." I say, he looks at me in confusion, "They're real to him, so they must exist in some way." He's looking at me in a very lustful way. He takes a step forward, and I do the same, "Plus, Teddy and I already scheduled a playdate with Teddy junior and Bitty, so I couldn't just act like I couldn't see his friends."

"Who's Bitty?" He asks, I can feel his breath on my face; I didn't know we already were leaning in.

"Never mind." I say, pushing up onto my toes and chastely kiss him. We pull back about an inch, I'm smiling; we finally kissed. I push back into him and kiss him again, and again, and agai-

He jumps back, regret now in his eyes, "We shouldn't be doing this."

"What?" I ask

"W-we shouldn't be doing this. You just got back. You were just discharged from the hospital. We can't do this now." He says, rubbing his forehead.

"Harry-"

"I'm sorry, Gin. It's not you, trust me, it's not. It's just that this isn't the time for you to be getting involved with a relationship. You still have to reconnect with your family-Oh Merlin, what am I doing?" I look at him, I'm sure my face is full of disappointment maybe even sadness, "I'm sorry," he pauses, "I should get Teddy and go." He turns on his heel to go back inside.

"Harry." He turns to look at me.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask hopefully. He clenches his jaw, his eyes filled with mixed emotions, "Please?"

His eyes lock with mine, "See you tomorrow."


	10. Sappy, Romantic Novels

"Ginny, sweetie, wake up." My hear my mother's voice break through my dream, "Ginny, it's time to get up." All of sudden there is a bright light shines through my eyelids. I shield my eyes from the light and focus on my mum who's fixing the now open curtains.

"What time is it?" I mumble into my pillow.

"About ten o'clock." She replies. I furrow my eyebrows; for once my mum let me sleep in? "George is coming over for his lunch break, he'll be here in the next couple of hours, so get dressed, but take your time, and I'll have a small snack out for you on the table."

"Thanks, Mum." I say, popping my shoulder back into place. For once, I had a good night's sleep, there was a slight soreness in my back but nothing compared to how my back felt every morning at St. Mungo's.

"Is Harry coming over again today?"

"I asked him to, but I don't know if he is." My mum nods as she empties my hamper that had one set of dirty clothes in it, "Mum, can I ask you a few questions?"

"Sure, dear, anything." She says, taking a seat on my bed with the clothesbasket on her lap.

I take a deep breath, "And you'll answer completely honest?"

"I'll do my best."

"Dominique, how old is she?"

My mum sighs and sets the basket on the ground, "About four months old."

"And Molly is around two months?"

"Her two month birthday is in a week." I nod, taking that information in.

"When did Percy and Audrey tie the knot?"

She seems extremely uncomfortable under my questioning gaze, "In December; they were pregnant with Molly halfway through their engagement." I was there for the first three months of their engagement, and then I disappeared. They must have gotten pregnant with her in October; from what I understand, I went missing in August.

"And George and Angie?"

"They announced their engagement shortly after Valentine's day." I smile at the thought of George of all people, settling down.

"And Charlie? Any girl for him?"

"No, still single." She looks a tad disgruntled at the fact.

"How have the Harpies been doing?"

She has a sharp intake of breath and shakes her head, "Definitely been suffering from a losing streak. I think for a while they didn't want to play because of their grief." I nod, "Is there anything else you want to know?" I shake my head, "Alright, I'll leave you to get dressed then." She walks out, closing the door behind her.

I slowly rise to my feet from my bed, and go to my dresser. Going through all of my clothes, I realize how much my body's changed. Nothing fits anymore; everything is either loose or frumpy-looking on my frame.

"Mum?" I call out of the doorway. She rushes up the stairs and runs into my room.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" I jump at her urgency.

"Nothing; it's just that all of my clothes are big now."

"Just shrink them, dear." She says in a breathy way.

"I can't; I don't have my wand anymore." She nods in remembrance.

"Sorry, dear," She pulls out her wand from her apron. She shrinks the outfit that I had lain out on my bed and then moves to the dresser to shrink the clothes in there, too. I change behind her as I hear the sounds of fabric getting smaller, "When Harry gets here we'll have to ask him if we can get your wand back from the aurors to have it fixed."

"They probably won't give it back; evidence and all."

"Well, it's not safe for you to be left wandless."

"I had a wand that night. Didn't seem to make a difference." I murmur. I hear the drawer close and I turn around, now fully dressed. My mum looks at me with teary eyes, "Forget I said that. Thanks for shrinking my clothes for me."

She nods and starts to walk out of my room; "I'll have the snack ready for you when you come down." I watch her leave as I finish getting ready.

* * *

"Gin." He says, opening his arms for me. I walking into his embrace and he kisses the top of my head, "Did you have a good first night?"

"Yeah, actually." I reply. His crooked grin shows onto his face, "How has work been today?"

"I don't consider it work, really. Not when it's been apart of my life for-well, my whole life." I roll my eyes.

"Even with the teachers' distaste."

"Hey, there was a job to be done, and we were there to do it." We walk into the kitchen, his heavy arm around my shoulders.

"Even if it meant breaking every rule in the book."

"You got it."

"George, would you like me to make you a sandwich? Maybe a salad?" My mom interjects.

"A sandwich is fine. Gin?" I shake my head, scrunching my nose.

"I'm not hungry."

"Ginevra, what do you want for lunch? You didn't eat the snack I left you and now you're going to claim you're not hungry?" I feel the gaze of both my brother and my mum locked upon me.

"I just don't feel hungry, Mum." I reply, taking a seat and immediately turning to George, "So, how's Angie doing?"

"Fine," he replies, obviously noticing my attempt to change the subject, "she actually has something to ask you when you see her next."

"Regarding?"

"I know, but I'm not telling you." He sends me his slyest smile yet.

"How about a hint?" I joke.

"No hints; every time I give you a hint you always figure it out within ten minutes."

"It's about your wedding, isn't it?"

George's expression doesn't change, he doesn't blink, he doesn't sigh; he just stares at me, "Even when I don't give you hints you still figure it out in the matter of minutes." He finally looks down at the sandwich Mum placed in front of him. "I need to learn how to keep my mouth shut."

There's a knock at the front door and Mum goes to see who it is. Finally, I have some alone time with George.

"George?"

"What's up, Ginbug?"

"Do you mind if I ask you something personal?" He coughs on his sandwich crust.

"What kind of 'personal'?"

"Just something personal about me that I need some help on."

"You're not trying to get away with murder or something, are you?" He quickly covers his ear with a hand, "Because I can't defend you if I know you did it."

"No, no, no," I say, grabbing his wrist, "It's a question about relationships."

He groans again, "Ginny, I really don't want to know about your love life."

"Fine, then." I say, disgruntled.

He watches me, obviously frustrated with himself for shutting me down. He sighs, "What do you need help with?"

I spare him a glance, "Last night...I kissed him."

He furrows his eyebrows and his eyes flicker between my eyes, "Who?" He looks completely clueless.

"What do you mean 'who'?" He keeps his confused look, "Harry. That's who."

"Well, that's good, right?"

"No!" I say, vehemently.

"It's not good?" He seems like a lost puppy in this matter.

"No, it wasn't good. He had been sending me signals for days; he had put his hand on my knee at St. Mungo's, he took the time to interview me during my interrogation, he hugged me like he used to. And then, just when we both leaned it, it's like something had changed. I mean, I kissed him anyway, but right in the middle, he jumped back and said that he couldn't 'do this' to me. I don't understand."

George sighed, and set his sandwich back onto his plate, "Isn't it obvious?" I shake my head, "He feels like he's overstepping his boundary."

"George, _I _kissed him."

"I know, I know, but as the bloke in the relationship, you're supposed to be the one who makes sure everything goes smoothly. I know, you guys aren't officially dating again, but he probably felt that kissing you, after everything that happened, after everything you're dealing with now, was going to add another nuisance to your list."

"But, he's not a nuisance; he's the one who's probably helped me the most."

"I won't take offense to that." I hold my hand up to stop him and apologize but he waves it off as a joke, "Knowing Harry, he thinks you should be with your family now, not with him."

"But, I _do _want to be with him now. It's not like I'm managing a career along with rekindling with my family. I literally have all the free time in the world. I don't even have a bloody wand!"

"Then do it again."

"What?"

"Kiss him again. And this time, don't let him jump back. And if he does, tell him how you feel; tell him what you told me; he won't be able to resist. Not after a year of missing you."

I nod, a smile playing on my face, "Thanks, George."

"Oh, and for the record, this conversation never happened, I don't know anything about your little escapades with your little boyfriend and I don't want to know. Anymore, and I'll lose my appetite." He says, with a smirk as he takes another bite of his sandwich.

"Okay, I'll just bother Percy with it."

"Now, _that's _an idea." He finishes off his sandwich and puts his dish in the sink, "And please don't tell Angie about me mentioning her question for you."

"Don't worry abo-"

"Ginevra Weasley," A strange man says from the doorway to the kitchen with my mum behind him wearing a weary expression.

"Yes?" I ask. George's posture changes and he seems on guard.

"You need to come down to the ministry with me. It's time for your meeting with Thomas."

"Thomas?"

"It's time to put a face with this criminal." I nod, and grab my jacket from the chair behind me.

"May I come with her?" Mum asks from behind him.

"You'll have to come separately and wait in the lobby; only aurors and specialized personnel are allowed on the Interrogation levels."

"It's okay, Mum. I'll be home soon." I whisper. The man takes me by my forearm and escorts me out of my house. It's a different auror from the last time, but he has the same coldness as the last.

* * *

Harry

"Robards," A man says from the doorway, "Ms. Weasley is here and is waiting for Thomas."

I look over to my boss, who nods. The young auror leaves us alone once more and Robards continues with his lecture.

"Are we not going to go watch in?" Ron asks.

"We are, but Thomas won't be for a while."

"Then why is she here already?" He asks.

"Because, Weasley, Potter, there are holes throughout Ginny's tale."

"Regarding?" I ask.

"A man, goes after her, stalks her as far back as the first three months in her career, for Merlin's sake he put Daily Prophet articles up on his walls. And then all of a sudden, he gets her right in his grip, and he just leaves her there in his basement. I know, she might be telling the truth that he never showed himself to her to her recollection. What if he did, she just doesn't remember?"

"What are you insinuating here?"

"She may not remember everything. She maybe was under the influence, or maybe charmed. But, there is no way he never took advantage of her presence."

* * *

I watch through the tinted mirror as Thomas sits down with Ginny. I'm sweating bullets here, especially after what Robards said in our meeting that a man could have taken advantage of Ginny? No; no way, no how. But, there still was always that possibility. Or maybe, just maybe, Ginny wasn't telling us everything.

There's that sliver of a chance that something happened she's too scared to tell us. Maybe she doesn't feel safe. Maybe she can't trust us. Or maybe she believes we're interrogating her as the criminal.

"Coffee?" Ron's voice comes from behind me, and the strong smell of the brew wafts towards me.

"Thanks, mate." I reply, taking the black coffee and drinking it straight.

"You think this is going to go well?" He asks, stuffing his hand in his pocket and surveying his sister listening to Thomas.

"With Ginny, who knows."

"That's what makes her so interesting."

"Boys, she's starting." Robards says as he places a charm on the mirror.

"Ms. Weasley, let's start with the face shape." Thomas starts, he lays out about ten different face shapes on the table for her to choose. She glances at all of the faces. It seems like it's taking her a long time to choose. "How about you eliminate the ones you're sure he didn't have?" Thomas asks.

She picks one up and studies it before looking at another still lying on the metal table. She puts it back down and touches another sheet as she studies it with the same amount of interest, "He doesn't look like any of these."

"Which one is the closest?"

She scans over the table once, twice, three times, maybe even four. She shakes her head, with lips pushed together, "I don't know."

"Just do the best you can."

She picks two pictures up, both with rounder faces; makes sense, she did describe him to be heavier. She glances between the two multiple times before finally setting one down.

"I think he's more like this one." She says handing him the photo.

"Are you sure?"

"I think so." He nods and starts to copy the face shape onto the large note pad.

"Okay, how about eye shape, yeah?" He sets out about eight different photos of eye shape. She closes her eyes for a second as though she's conjuring up an image of her attacker. Once her eyes open, she's immediately going after the photos. One after another, after another. Ginny searches through the photos until, like before, she comes down to two. She looks up at the man and then back to the pictures.

"I think it was like this one." Ginny hands him the photo.

"Okay, and now, what size do you think they were in comparison to this head size?" He places the notepad for her to see the sketched, blank face, and pulls out about three different sizes of the model shape of eye she chose. She glances back and forth from the sketched face to the example eyes until she finally chooses the smaller pair, "And how low would you say on the face were they?"

"Low on the face?"

"Yes; how big was his forehead?" She furrows her eyebrows and stares at the face. She traces a line with her fingertip on the paper.

"His eyebrow line was about there." Thomas immediately snatches the sketchpad and draws a light line across the paper.

"Okay, and how far were the eyes from the eyebrows?" She shrugs.

"I dunno, maybe shy of three centimeters?"

"And how far apart?"

"Maybe five or six centimeters?" Thomas nods as he starts to sketch in the eyes according to Ginny's description.

"Now, eyebrow shape?"

I watch as Ginny tediously goes through the same process with the shape of eyebrows, the distance between eyebrows, the thickness of the eyebrows; things you wouldn't think about when you're looking at eyebrows. Then they move on to the nose, and the ears, finally his mouth. By now, it's been about an hour and a half. Her answers always consist of a simple, "I think so" or an "I guess," which is starting to annoy the sketch artist.

They start on coloring the picture; sounds easy, right? No; it's worse than drawing the picture. Now, it's all about precision; like it wasn't before, right? Now, the two will go through an array of browns, blondes, greens, reds, and more. All until they find this Holy Grail color to color in only a square centimeter of space.

"Okay, Ms. Weasley, does this look like the man who held you captive over this past year?" Thomas asks, as he turns the sketchpad around for her to see the finished project. There seems to be no glint of recognition in her eyes but she nods. I glance at Robards who seems disgruntled. "Alright, Ms. Weasley, thank you for going through this process with me. It's been a pleasure; it really has."

Thomas leaves the interrogation room and meets with us in the chat room.

"Here's your man." He says, handing Robards the pad of paper. We look at it over his shoulder; there definitely is something off about this man in this picture. His eyes are small; very small, but not as though it's an artist error, no, more like a natural pair of small eyes that don't grace a face well. I glance back through the mirror to see Ginny sitting, twiddling her fingers together. I wish she wouldn't do that. In auror training, we learned that fidgeting is a telltale sign of either a lie or a half-truth.

Now, I know Ginny, she did that all the time. It's more of a nervous twitch for her, but it could be interpreted in any way by anyone who doesn't know her like I do.

"Run it. Go through every witch, wizard, and squib there is. Find this man." Robards' voice booms at a rookie auror. The young eighteen-year-old nods fervently before striding out of the room.

"Tails," Robards says to the auror sitting in the corner, "Take Ms. Weasley home, and don't let her in on anything." He nods before moving into the interrogation room and gesturing for Ginny to walk with him out of the opposite door. And without any gesture of goodbye, because I know she knows I'm here, she leaves.

* * *

Ginny

We apparate to the front of the Burrow's drive with the auror still holding me by my forearm with an iron grip. We start toward my house and he bangs on the door. Why am I being treated like a felon? I just had to recount of the most nauseating faces in my short life. My mum answers the door and lets out a sigh of relief when she sees me with dry eyes and all locks of hair still in my head. I walk inside and leave my mum to offer Tails a drink and some food. Upon entering the kitchen I see Bill and Fleur, looking up at me with serious faces.

Immediately I glance around the room for any signs of Victoire running around or maybe a baby carrier, but nothing appears. It's just the two of them, sitting at the kitchen table, watching me.

"Hi." I say with a cracked voice.

"Ginny," Bill says with a sympathetic smile, "we wanted to talk to you."

"Sorry for not being around, I was-"

"Meeting with a sketch artist, we know. How'd it go?" He asks, still with that gooey, sympathetic smile of his.

"Fine." I lie.

"Good." The tension is still palpable in the room. And I'm looking anywhere except at the couple in front of me.

"I know. If that's why you're here."

"We know you do. And yes, that's why we're here." There's another long silence before I break again.

"You could have just told me," I glance between Fleur and Bill, "I don't need to be treated with caution."

"It wasn't so much that as it was to be sure you were completely acclimated before we brought something new into your life." I furrow my eyebrows.

"You wanted to wait until I felt completely at ease with life so you could break the news to me and have everything erupt into chaos again?" Bill looks down at his hands sheepishly. I know, that's a harsh way at looking at it, but it's how I see it. "Plus, who knows, it could have taken me a whole year to finally get 'acclimated to my life'."

"We're sorry, Ginny." Fleur pipes up. I nod in acceptance, "That's why, we brought the girls over today; so, you can finally see Victoire again and meet Dominique." I crack a smile before nodding.

"Where are they?" I ask.

"Napping. We've been here for a while." Bill answers. I glance at the clock again, _wow, I _was_ gone for a long time. _

"Sorry about that." I reply in an awkward fashion.

"It's not your fault; Mum told us that an auror just showed up and you had to leave. George left about an hour ago, he said that it seemed very urgent."

"The department definitely couldn't wait for it if that's what you're implying."

"Well, at least you've gotten that over with, yeah?" Fleur says, in her French accent. I nod and an awkward cloud falls into the room. Bill seems to have his stoic essence to him once again; the same stoic presence he had for months after the war. Fleur suddenly becomes interested with tracing the aged scratches on the surface of the kitchen table with her fingertips.

My mum walks back into the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, "So, Ginny, how did it go?"

"Fine, I guess." I reply.

"Do you think the sketch looked like the man?"

I shrug, "I guess." Her eyebrows scrunch together and she sends me a look of uneasiness, "Don't worry about it, Mum. It's just that my memory is a little fuzzy."

"Well, did the picture look anything like the man?"

"I thought it did. It probably does, but they asked me such specific questions about him that I don't know if I gave the right answers. He would keep telling me that it was okay if it was a little off every time I would go through the choices of features, but it's not that I was having trouble choosing, it was more that I was having trouble remembering."

Bill glances at Mum before cautiously starting, "Ginny, what do you remember of him?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused. He shares an unsure look with his wife and our mum before continuing.

"I guess, what I'm asking is, what happened to you in there? What did he do to you?" He doesn't seem like he's trying to pinpoint me as a criminal; he seems genuinely concerned because he's my brother, and apart of being my brother means that he loves me unconditionally, right? Unlike those aurors who only care because it means they'll get a paycheck every other Friday.

I take a deep breath, trying to decide if I should tell him or not. If I tell him, what do I leave out? What's too much to share? I look back at the others and they're staring at me with wrapped attention. Am I even supposed to tell anyone except the aurors? Isn't that a safety violation? I could be putting the case in jeopardy.

"You don't have to tell us everything." Mum says from beside me. I just shrug and shake my head.

"I honestly don't want to go through the story again." I say, quietly. They all look a little disappointed. I feel bad that I'm not putting them in the loop but, at the same time, I feel as though I shouldn't feel bad about it. It's up to me; it's my comfort that's at stake here.

Silence, once again, falls over the kitchen; probably for the best. We sit in silence until it breaks by a screech from upstairs. It's been awhile since I've heard a wail like that. Fleur immediately stands, saying she'll get it.

This is it. This is the moment. I'm about to meet my little niece for the first time. Butterflies in my stomach start to venture out to new parts. The crying starts to fall quiet, and the creaking of the floorboards overhead start. She's coming downstairs. The sound grows closer; the stairs start to squeak, a quiet French whisper comes into the distance, and a slight whimper of a baby starts to sound. I watch as my sister-in-law appears on the last few steps of the crooked staircase with a jumble of blankets in her arms. I can feel a smile form on my lips as Fleur walks to me.

"Meet your niece, Dominique Ginevra Weasley." Bill whispers from across me. My eyes immediately flash to him. _Dominique Ginevra Weasley. _I smile back down to the little infant in my arms. She looks back up to me with curious eyes full of wonder at this new, peculiar face.

"Do you want to her be godmother, Ginny?" Fleur asks from beside her husband. I feel tears well in my eyes as I think about what they just offered me. First, they name their child after me, and then they ask me to be her mentor, her guide, and her guardian if they can't be there. And I think back to watching Harry with Teddy for the years before my disappearance and him with the boy now. Teddy looks up to Harry, calls him 'Daddy', loves him unconditionally. Now, I know, their circumstance is a lot different than Dominique's ever will be, but I can't help but feel my heart swell as I think about it.

"Ginny? Will you?" Bill asks, his eyes full of plea.

"Hasn't one already been appointed to her?" I ask, quietly. They shake their head with a slight smile.

"We appointed you when she was born. We thought if you really were—uh—gone, you'd definitely watch over her, every hour of every day." Bill responds.

I nod, and look back down to the girl in my arms. She's one of the sweetest things I've ever seen. Her eyes are Bill's ice blue, her hair; a dark, strawberry blonde.

"We understand if you don't want the responsibility right now, we just—"

"No, I want to." I say, seriously, "I think it'll help me." She reaches out her tiny hand toward my nose. I put my fingertip on her palm and she grabs one. _Dominique Ginevra Weasley. _

"Mummy?" A little voice comes from the stairwell. I look up and see a young girl, the age of three, rubbing her eyes with a small bunny hanging from her hand. I know that bunny; I gave that to her for her first birthday.

"Victoire." Fleur says, holding out her hand for her to come over to her. The little girl grabs the railing and takes a step at a time before running over to her mum. Fleur pulls her onto her lap, "Victoire, this is Aunt Ginny."

"Aunt Ginny?" Victoire asks her mother confused.

"Yes, Aunt Ginny." Fleur repeats, bouncing her daughter on her knee. Victoire looks at me and shrugs. There is no sparkle of recognition in her eyes, and there's no smile playing on her face. She has no idea who I am.

I hold my hand out to her, "It's nice to meet you." It breaks my heart to say that. It breaks my heart that she uneasily places her small hand into mine and shakes it.

"Nice to meet you." She replies, cautiously. She squirms out of her mother's lap and runs out of the room, as if she's going to go play now. I watch her leave, sadness probably playing on my face. A hand lands on my shoulder to gain my attention.

My mum sends me another one of her sympathetic smile and removes her hand, "She's just young; she knows who you—"

"It's okay, Mum. I didn't expect her to." Bill and Fleur share a sad glance at each other. I look back down at the sweet girl in my arms. I won't miss any part of her life. This time, I promise.

"So, did you ask the aur—" The little girl who reenters the room and my mum's questions trails away. She has a picture frame in her hands and her eyes are locked on me.

"Victoire, what do you have there?" Bill asks as the girl walks over to me. I hand my mother the baby and lean my elbows on my knees to be eye to eye with her.

She pushes the big picture frame up onto the table; face up, "Aunt Ginny?" She asks, reaching up to point to the picture. It's a picture of Victoire and I at her second birthday party, shortly before my leave. Victoire has birthday cake all over her face, and she's sitting on my lap as we laugh, looking at the camera. I shift my eyes back to her, and she's wearing an unbelieving expression on her face. I nod with a sympathetic smile.

She stands up onto her tippy toes and wraps her arms around my neck. I pull her up onto my lap and hold her close. Maybe it wasn't recognition that was missing from her eyes, maybe her confusion clouded over it? She was probably told that I was gone like Uncle Fred, not that she would know who that was yet.

"Victoire, how did you get this photo off the mantle?" Bill asks, holding up the photo. She looks at him with her innocent eyes and shrugs. "Victoire, tell me; how did you get this picture frame off of Mammy's mantle without hurting yourself?"

"I didn't do anything, Daddy." Victoire says, snuggling into my arms.

"You're not in trouble if you tell us, Victoire." Fleur interjects.

"I just reached for it and it fell into my hands." Bill and Fleur's faces flush.

"Mum, does that mean that she just—"

"There's a possibility. Charlie's bit of accidental magic happened at age four."

"Victoire, do you know what this means?" I ask, excitedly. She shakes her head, "It means you're a witch! You can do magic just like Mummy and Daddy."

"And Aunt Ginny!" She replies with a toothy grin.

* * *

Things settled down shortly after that. For one, Victoire was treated to a whole bar of Honeyduke's chocolate that Seamus had sent me as a homecoming gift. Dominique fell cranky due to hunger and maybe a much needed nappy change. Bill and Fleur bid Mum and I a goodbye and left in order to put Dominique right before dinner and have Victoire unleash her energy searching for seashells on the beach at Shell Cottage.

It wasn't long until Dad had come home from work and Mum had supper made. I look out the window toward the apparation point at the end of the drive. Harry said that I'd see him today, I guess by that he meant at the auror department. And by _I'd _see him; he meant _he'd _see me. The moon has risen, the crickets have already started playing their nightly jam, and my parents have retired to their nightly routine of sitting in the living room, reading the paper or maybe a good novel.

I think about what George told me this morning. _Do it again. _Do it again. That seems dangerous and a little rash. Obviously, Harry didn't feel comfortable with it yesterday; what makes today any different? But, don't get me wrong, I have no objections toward the idea. If this had been a normal day, in normal-land, where I never went missing, Harry and I would have kissed hundreds of times today, even if we both were at work. But that's a land in another dimension. And in this dimension, at this exact moment, I'm trying to come up with a plan to kiss him again.

What would I even say to him when he pulls back? How would I explain to him that I'm completely sure that I want to be with him at this moment? I could tell him that he's the only one who seems to care about what happened to me. Of course, that's an extreme exaggeration, my parents have been amazing throughout this whole process, so have all my brothers and my friends. I could tell him that I miss how it used to be and It would help me more than he can imagine to be with him like that again. But, that sounds like one of those cheesy, dramatic scenes in romantic novels that I can't stand.

There's a loud pop from the outside of the Burrow, which means one thing. Someone apparated here. The question is who? I nod to my parents, telling them that I'll get the door and walk to the foyer. I peak into a window and see Harry striding toward the porch. I hide behind the door and hold my breath. Three knocks against the wood indicate he's here. I count to five and then slowly swing the door open.

"Oh, Harry, I didn't expect you to come today." I greet, giving him a side hug.

"Well, I promised to see you today, didn't I?" I nod in remembrance.

"So, how was work today? Anything new?"

"You know I can't tell you anything," He says, shrugging out of his jacket, "But in general, work was okay. How was your afternoon?"

"Fine," I say before locking eyes with him, "I met Dominique today." His expression faltered a little before he tried to keep cool.

"How did that go?"

I smile as I remember the little girl in my arms, "Really well. I'm her godmother."

"I know," Harry smiles at me, "You were the day she was born."

"That's what Bill said," A silence falls between us, and Harry's face turns a little pink at the awkward essence that fills the room, "I also got to see Victoire."

Harry nods, "I'm sure she was her bubbly self the whole time."

"Actually, at first, she seemed confused and then she left and came back with the picture of us on the mantle. Apparently, she reached for it and it fell in her hand."

"Accidental?"

"We think so. Looks like my niece is officially a witch."

"I'll send her some chocolates tomorrow." Harry jokes. I smile at him and he diverts his eyes awkwardly away.

"Um, Harry?" I ask; he looks up at me with concern, "Want to take a walk?"

"Ginny, it's night time; it's not safe."

"I have a full-qualified auror with me; I think I'll be okay." I say, grabbing his forearm and pulling him through the living room where my parents say their hellos and ask where we're going. I respond with a breathy 'outside' and leave through the back door. I know that's not how I should treat the matter of going outside for a walk at night with them but I don't have the patience to have them retaliate.

"We're not going far." Harry's voice of reason breaks through the crickets.

"I know; I just wanted to get away from eavesdropping ears." I turn around and face him. He looks at the area around us, as if he's surveying if it's safe for us to be out here. "Okay, I know you're not allowed to tell me anything about the case, or the sketch, or basically anything that I really want to know about. But, can you answer me about something related to my safety?"

His eyebrows furrow at my last question, "Depending, what is it?"

"I don't feel comfortable living wandless. I mean, I know it's evidence and what not, but what do I do if my attacker breaks through and tries to duel with me? I'm basically an easy target."

"We know you're wandless, but we can't get your wand back to you at the moment."

"So, I'm just going to walk around wandless? I'm not allowed to leave my house; therefore I can't very well go to Ollivander's to get a new one."

"No, it's not that; we've sent it to a wandmaker in Russia."

"What? Why?"

"We took pictures of your wand and did magical tests on it as soon as we brought it in as evidence. It only took a couple of days. But then, we sent it to Ollivander, who could only fix a couple of the fragments, so we sent it to France. Your wand was too stubborn for him so we sent it to Russia where the finest wandmakers are fixing it at the moment."

"But, is it that hard to fix a wand?"

"It's a pretty difficult process. Some wands are tricky and decide to cooperate with certain wandmakers and not for others." I nod as I listen to him speak.

"Do you know if it's going well?"

"I think it is; I haven't heard otherwise. But, once it's done, you'll get it back immediately."

Once again, the conversation falls to the silence. We look around, avoiding each other's eyes. I watch him closely, thinking about what George said. _Kiss him again and don't let him jump back. _

I finally rest my eyes on him, he's looking at the ground, as if he's in deep thought. I grab his forearm and his eyes snap to me.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Er, what-oh-nothing." I take a step forward and he immediately stiffens.

"Harry, I know you; you're thinking about something that's bothering you. What is it?"

"It's nothing, Ginny." He says, taking a step backwards.

"Oh bloody hell-Harry, stop trying to avoid me."

He raises his eyebrows at me, "I'm not avoiding you; I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

"No, not like that; I know what I did yesterday caught you off guard. I know you don't think you should be in my life the way you used to be before this all happened but I disagree. I hate this. I hate having to put a filter on because we're not as close as we used to be. I hate knowing that if I take a step toward you, you'll take a step away."

"Ginny, we both know that you're too fr-"

"Don't you dare call me fragile, Harry Potter." I feel my temper rise in my throat.

"I didn't mean it like that; I just don't think that this is the time for us to be involved."

"Well, I think it's the exact time to be involved. I miss you, Harry. I mean, I miss how it used to be."

"And you think I don't miss that too? Of course, I miss the old times. But, Ginny, you have to remember, we have a criminal to catch. You have a family to spend time with-"

"No different to how my life was before."

"No, Gin, it's completely different from what your life was before."

"Harry, I want to-"

"Well, I think we should keep-" But, I kiss him. I don't know what he was about to say and I don't care. I'm kissing him, with my hands wrapped around his neck; not letting him jump back, just like George said. After a slight jump, I feel his hands slip around my waist. Merlin, I've missed this. I bring my hand into his hair and deepen the kiss. The crickets sound around us. A slight breeze blows against our legs. And finally, I feel at peace.

The kiss slows and then we break apart, both still dazed from what just happened. I touch his cheeks with my fingertips and he rests his forehead on mine.

"I still love you, Harry." I whisper a little emotional over what just happened. _He _leans in for a quick peck before running his hand down my hair.

"I never stopped." I decide to let that comment go, even if it did sounded like the ending to a sappy chapter to a dramatic romantic story.


	11. Criminal

**A/N: POI means Person of Interest**

Harry

"Turn to the right." The man says through the speaker. I watch as the six men turn to show their sides through the two way mirror. I look to her to see if she recognizes any of them.

"Well?" I ask, as she stares blankly through the glass. She has her arms crossed over her chest, and it seems like she's extremely uncomfortable. Ginny eyes flicker to me before she shakes her head and brings her fingertips to her mouth.

I nod to the man and he leans toward the microphone,"Turn to the left." All the men turn to face the opposite wall. I look to her again, and she still watches them the same way she did before. I turn around and see Robards watching her with a stoic expression.

"Face the back." The man narrates. Ginny watches as the men turn in different directions, say different statements, perform different common actions, but she doesn't point to a single one. "Follow the auror out of the room." The men all drop their numbers and follow the man out. She blinks a couple of times before pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands and turns to me.

"May I leave now?" She asks, quietly in a raspy voice. I nod and move out of her way so she can go with the appointed auror. Robards clears his throat after the door closes behind her.

"There's going to be a meeting at three o'clock. Be there." He says in a frustrated way before leaving as well. I'm left alone in the darkened room. I lean against the table and run my hand through my hair.

Times have been tough lately. Ginny and I, well, I don't even know anymore. We kissed that night, after she submitted her sketch with the sketch artist and met Dominique at home. But, that's all that has happened. I was nervous about starting our relationship back up after all that's happened, but at the same time, I was happy about it. I was excited to call Ginny my own, to hold her in my arms again, but when I came back to the Burrow on my lunch break the next day, something had changed. She was closed off; quiet.

Mrs. Weasley kept looking to me with worry throughout the lunch and I tried to get Ginny to talk. But after about thirty minutes of being pestered, she asked to be excused and went upstairs to her room.

Her mother asked me what had happened with her, I told her about the events from the nights before and apologized. She told me that it couldn't have had anything to do with me because as far as she knew, Ginny had been waiting for me and had been planning for it all day long.

But, when she woke up, something changed like a light bulb had been shut off. She refused to eat, refused to talk, refused to do anything that involved being around her family. And it worried her mother. We had hoped that it was just an off day but the next day, nothing had changed. And then the next. And the next.

She's been cooped up in her room every since then, only coming out for meetings at the Auror Department and to go to the bathroom; as far as everyone knows. I, for one, know she sneaks out at midnight to snag a few things of food before sneaking back up into her room. I only know this because I stayed at the Burrow one night, along with Ron, when Molly and Arthur went to Romania to help Charlie with a few financial issues. I had left Ron's room around eleven o'clock due to the fact that I couldn't fall asleep with Ron's constant snoring; How Hermione can do it, I don't know. I retired to laying on the couch in the living room and just before I fell asleep, there was a creak on the stairs. I immediately went on guard and hid with my back against the wall parallel to the stairwell, out of eyes' view. With a very bright _Lumos _charm, Ginny had quietly stepped into the kitchen, poured herself a bowl of cereal and snuck back upstairs, not noticing my presence. At least she's eating.

We've called her in for multiple line ups, every single one ended like this one had, with no identification and no step in the investigation. I know Robards is going to be frustrated; with who, who knows. The first few times, it was with the aurors who had found these blokes, the next couple had been with the auror who was standing with Ginny; that's why I was appointed to talk with her this time. Today, he could be angry with all of us.

To be honest, I'm a little frustrated with Ginny. I understand that she's dealing with a lot, but she doesn't seem to care if the man is caught or not. She answers every question with a shrug or, if we're lucky, a _slight _shake of her head. She doesn't come up with any other details about this man to help us with the investigation. And, letting myself fall to my selfish thoughts, she has shut me out after leading me to think we were going back to how it used to be.

I clench my fists and then let go, trying to redirect my frustrations away from throwing something across the room. One deep breath, and few nods to myself, I'm calm. I check my watch; eleven o'clock. That's it; I'm taking an early lunch break. I leave the room and stop at my desk to grab a few galleons and my jacket. I think I'll just eat in the cafe alone today, since Ron took off work to care for Hermione, who's had the flu since Tuesday.

I walk down the hallway and enter the elevator. _What could have happened between the night and morning that would shut her off, _I think silently as the elevator lowers to the main floor.

"_Main Level; Ministry of Magic Atrium._"The cool voice says, "_Have a nice day._" I walk out into the crowds of people and start toward the cafe. Did I do something to make her feel uncomfortable? I mean, was allowing her to kiss me the wrong move?

"Daddy!" I hear behind me. I turn around to see a young boy with green hair running toward me with open arms.

"Teddy!" I say crouching to be at his level. He hugs my shoulders and then pulls back, "What are you doing here, mate?"

"We thought you would like some company for lunch." Andromeda approaches us. I stand as Teddy takes my hand.

"Some company would be nice." I admit, "Thanks."

"Molly told me about how hard the case has been lately. I'm really sorry to hear about it." I nod as I lead the two to the cafe.

"What have you heard?" I ask, as Teddy hops on the tiles, trying to avoid the cracks.

"She told me about Ginny; about how she's isolating herself." I press my lips together and nod tiredly.

"I really don't know why; I thought the case was going to be solved in the matter of a few weeks after the sketch was submitted but, it's the complete opposite. I mean, it's been three months since we've gotten a face to go with the event and we _still _haven't found out who he is, and she's not really helping either."

"I'm sorry, dear. Ginny will come around, I'm sure this is just too much for her and she is just having a hard time dealing with it."

"I mean, that could be what's going on; but it was so abrupt, I can't imagine that's the main reason for it." We enter the cafe and gather our food before sitting down at a table near the back corner by the artificial windows.

"So, are you and Ginny going to pick up where you left off after all of this is set and done?" Andy asks placing one of the paper napkins on her lap.

I sigh and shrug, "I don't know anymore. For a second there, I really did think we were, but with how she's been acting lately, I don't know if she wants anything to do with me." I glance up at the wise, old woman staring at me, "It's been a touchy situation, really."

"I understand; Ted and I went through a rough patch after he left for a year with training abroad. Of course, that was nothing like what you two went through and are still going through, but when he came back, it was like we didn't know each other."

"How'd you get through it?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Right when we were about to lose it, I took the liberty of saving it. We had been fighting a lot at that time; about what, I don't really remember, but one night, it was worst than the others. He was right about to walk out of the door before I begged him to stay. And we finally _talked. _It's strange to say that, but I think it was one of the first times we actually had a conversation that wasn't filled with pregnant pauses or a screaming match."

I smile as I notice she's reminiscing about her late husband; Andy has always been a very private person, and I wasn't there to see her mourn Ted Tonks during the time of the war. But, it's always heartwarming to see her think about him; knowing that he never really vanished.

"You and Ginny will make it through, as long as you try to keep it going. Harry, love doesn't just 'work out,' you have to make it work, or it's just a fleeting concept."

I nod, not really able to come up with a response. I look over to Teddy who's sitting beside me, swinging his legs and chewing on his macaroni. As far as I know, he'd had a playdate with Ginny about a week ago. According to Mrs. Weasley, they had played outside in the backyard, and for the first time in these last three months, Ginny was smiling and being her amazing self. I guess Teddy has that effect on people.

"So, when are you off of work today?"

"I'm not sure; I know I have a meeting at three, and that probably will determine when my dismissal is."

"Don't you aurors have set working hours?"

"We do, but I don't think they're commonly followed. I mean, I do get paid overtime when we're kept back, but, I'm sure you know with Tonks, they can hold us for hours on end and we can't really object."

"Oh yes, I remember. There were a few times Nymphadora didn't come back until one or two o'clock in the morning. But, she loved every minute of being an auror, I have to give her that."

"So, what do you two have planned for the afternoon?" I ask, to get off the solemn topic of Ted and Tonks.

"Oh, we'll probably go shopping for some new clothes for Teddy; he's grown so much over this past month, nothing fits. And then we have a playdate with Victoire and Dominique, don't we, Teddy?" The little boys nods enthusiastically as he shovels more macaroni and cheese into his mouth, "We do have something to ask you, Harry?"

"What's the matter?"

"Well, Grandmum has a class reunion this weekend and she really wants to go. We hate having to put you on the spot at such short notice, but we were wondering if you would mind having Teddy Friday to Sunday night?"

I smile at her guilt, "Of course not; I'll look forward to it."

"I thought that you would want some light in the matter of all this chaos."

"It's much needed." I admit, looking back down at the four year old.

"Daddy, do you have any chocolate?" He asks all of a sudden.

"Teddy," Andromeda started, "you know you don't ask for chocolate ten minutes into a visit."

"It's alright, Andy. But, sorry, mate; I don't have any on me."

"Can we get some on Friday?" He asks with hopeful eyes.

"Of course, mate."

* * *

"Take your seats." Robards says once the clock hits three o'clock. I look around the room as I see every auror from Ginny's case, well except for Ron, crowded around the meeting table, "Alright, what are we doing wrong here, eh? Why is it that we have a face, and a recorded surveillance charm from that night, and a destination where he spent most of his time for a whole year, and yet, we still haven't found the actual man in question."

I redirect my eyes to my hands and listen to Robards continue, "We have run through every record of wizards and squibs, with and without a criminal record, in the 100 kilometer radius around the destination point, and yet, still, not even a tip of who he is."

"That's the only area we've scanned?" An auror from behind me asks.

Robards clenches his jaw, that's not a good sign, and answers, "Of course, we have scanned other places; we have looked through every wizard and squib in Holyhead, London, and Ottery St. Catchpole along with that radius. Yet, every man that looks remotely like the sketch has been denied of being a match."

"Did we put in a claim to the muggle government for them to scan their citizens?"

"Yes, but that's taking a lot longer because they have a significantly larger population to search through. Plus, the POI was a fan of the Holyhead Harpies and would go to the matches; that would insinuate that he is a wizard or a squib rather than a muggle." Robards eyes scan the room before he continues, very slowly, "Listen, today, Ms. Weasley denied another line up of people; that's her seventh line up of men that she has denied any matches within it. I'm starting to question if we're ever going to find this man."

"So, what are you insinuating?" The senior auror from across the room asks.

Robards eyes flicker to me before he answers, "I think we've been let on in this investigation," I look up at him confused, but at the same time, I know where he's going at, "I don't really think she's been telling us the truth. There, again, are holes in her story, she answers every question with a shrug or an 'I don't know'. There has been no evidence of sexual assault, and yes, she denies any as well, but, a man holds her hostage for a year and doesn't take advantage of her in any way? Likelihood of that is a slim to none chance."

"So, you think she's lying?"

"My opinion doesn't have any importance; the evidence is, on the other hand, showing the contrary." He pulls out a piece of parchment from the suitcase, "I have a warrant for her arrest. Running away, misleading a case, falsely accusing a man."

"You're not actually serious, are you? We have a surveillance charm of her being attacked." I burst out, "I mean, sure we don't see the man but it's obvious she wasn't alone and was grabbed by something. She didn't run away, if she did, she wouldn't still be here."

"Potter, you're too close to the case to see what we all see. The evidence just doesn't support her story."

"If you ask me the evidence _does _support her story. She never accused this man of raping her, and the evidence says the same thin-"

"Yes, but what I'm seeing, is that she never came in contact with any man; what I see is that she ran away, she made that anonymous tip about the dark magic inside that shack, she posed herself to look as though she had be kidnapped, all so she can get back to her old life. That's the reason this 'man' didn't rape her; he doesn't exist."

"She wouldn't have run away; she was happy. And no one is that smart to come up with a plan as ambitious as that."

"Potter, you don't have a say in this, Ginevra Weasley's story is unlikely after investigating the circumstances, and because of this, it can be assumed that it never happened."

Another auror clears his throat, "This doesn't mean we think she's a criminal, Potter; this is only a temporary situation until we can find the man or someone can testify as some kind of witness to this situation."

"That's another problem with this case, we have no eye witnesses to step forward, the only one who is able to prove this story is Ginny and she's not even helping anymore. It's time to stop spending all of our money on a case that's going no where." Robards nods before adding on, "Plus, who knows; maybe a taste of criminal discipline will jog her memory."

I clench my jaw, I can't believe this is happening. They're accusing Ginny of running away; she's being charged of conspiracy right in front of me and there's nothing I can do about it.

"Potter, you're the only auror she will cooperate with, so you and I will go to Ottery St. Catchpole to detain her." My boss says, intense eyes on me.

"Me? Haven't you already said that I'm too close to this case to see what's happening?'

"Yes, I have, but if she cooperates, the consequences for her actions will be a lot less severe than if she fights back."

He instructs different groups of aurors to take on a new task before dismissing the meeting. I stand up and gather my paperwork, "Potter," He says just as the other aurors left the room, "Can I have a moment?"

"Sure."

"There's something that I need to share with you before we leave for Ms. Weasley's house." I nod, if you're wondering; yes, I'm still a little pissed off about what's about to happen, "It's no secret that you and Ginny were involved at the time she went missing. I don't know if you two are seeing each other again and I don't want to know." He pauses and sighs, "I kept you on this case because I knew it was the only way I could keep your attention here, but now that Ginny is being charged, I can't have you on this case anymore."

I feel my throat fall into my stomach, "What?"

"After the arrest tonight, you're dismissed. Weasley will be dismissed as well."

"We're not going to be bias if that's what you're worried about."

"No, it's not that I think you'll be bias, but it's policy that we can't have a family member or love interest work on the case against a defendant. I'm sorry, Potter." I press my lips together and nod.

"I understand, sir."

"Don't worry, I'll pay Weasley a visit and tell him on my own. But, Potter, I must say, if she tells you anything, or if you find anything, you have to report it to the department; even if it's something that hurts Ms. Weasley's case."

Our eyes lock for a second. All of a sudden, I understand now why I shouldn't be on this case. If she admitted to me that she ran away, what would I do? That's the thing; I don't think I would report it just to keep her out of any detention facility. But, would I break the oath I took to keep her record clean?

* * *

With a loud pop, we apparate to the front of the Burrow's drive. I'm shaking internally from nerves about what I'm about to do. Robards takes the lead, walking up to the porch; his fists clenched, his expression hard. We walk up onto the wooden stairs and, as if in slow motion, Robards knocks three times on the door. I glance and double take to my left where a little pair of yellow hand prints sit with carvings underneath that read, '_Ginny 1983'_.

The front door swings open to show a tired looking Mrs. Weasley, "Harry, Gawain, it's good to see you two," Mrs. Weasley greets in her warm way, "Come in, come in."

"Mrs. Weasley, I'm sorry to say this but we aren't here on casual terms." Robards replies, wiping his shoes on the floor mat as he walks inside.

"What's the issue?" She asks, worriedly.

Robards gives her a sympathetic sigh before unfolding the warrant from his pocket, "We have a warrant to take Ginny in. She's charged for running away." Mrs. Weasley goes pale and after a few seconds I can see her start to tear up.

Mr. Weasley walks into the foyer with a smile on his face until he sees his wife's state, "What's going on?"

"Deputy Minister," Robards says, shaking Mr. Weasley's hand, "I'm sorry to come here so suddenly, but I am here on Ministry matters." He hands Mr. Weasley the warrant, and I watch as he reads it and looks back up to my boss.

"No, this can't be true. She's not a criminal."

"I'm not saying she is, but it's something we have to do until we find this man who attacked her." I glance up at Robards. To be honest, now I'm a little frustrated with him; it has been about two hours since our meeting where he was acting completely heartless toward the matter; telling me that Ginny was a liar and that she needed to be detained for conspiracy, and now that he's in the presence of his superior he's going to be benevolent and sympathetic in the matter.

Mr. Weasley's eyes turn to me, glassy, but not from sadness; more from frustration, shock, and maybe a little disappointment, "She's up in her room."

I nod and move to the staircase to go get her, I feel like I should do this away from prying eyes, so she can have a moment before leaving her family and house behind. I climb the stairs trying to come up with a plan of what to say, and how to keep her calm. I approach her door and knock, there's a faint '_come in_' and I know it's time.

I open the door and see Ginny sitting on her windowsill with a book in her lap. Her expression is blank and her eyes flicker up and down.

"Ginny, I need you to come with me." Her eyebrows furrow and she closes her book.

"Why?" She swings her feet off of the windowsill and sits up straight.

I gulp before starting, "Ginny, we have a warrant for your arrest." Her face changes to fear, "Don't freak out," I say as her breath quickens, "this doesn't mean that you're going to be put in Azkaban or that we think you're a criminal, but because there isn't anyone to back up your story, and we haven't found this man yet the Auror Department has to look at the alternative possibilities and they have taken the idea of you running away as a probable conclusion."

Her bottom lip trembles and she stands up. She starts to turn hysterical as tears start to fall from her eyes, "I didn't." She says covering her face in her hands, "I didn't run away." She says with struggled breaths.

"I know you didn't, Gin." I say, gathering her in my arms. She starts to really cry in my chest and I stroke her hair, "It's just protocol, we'll find him and we'll get you out."

"I didn't run away," She cries. I kiss the top of her hair and rock her back and forth.

"It's okay, Ginny. I don't believe that you did." She holds onto my uniform sleeve and starts to shake from her tears, "The Head Auror is here and he's going to be very cold to you; you can't take it to heart. Just cooperate, if you fight back it will make it seem like you have something to hide." Her cries don't fade as her legs start to shake from hysteria, "I've been dismissed from the case so I'm going to visit you as much as I can, I promise."

"What if you don't find him?" She sobs, her head still not visible.

"They'll find him, I can still help with the case but I'm not going to be an assigned auror. I'll make sure they find him, and I'll make sure he's punished for what he's done." I pull her head away from my chest and I see her face with wet cheeks, a red complexion and swollen eyes, "I promise I'll get you out of there." Her lip trembles as she chokes on a sob, "I love you."

Her eyes lock back up into mine and she bites her lip before choking out, "I love you, too."

* * *

"Ms. Weasley, you have been charged with conspiracy, misleading a case, falsely accusing a man, and running away." Robards briefs as he hands Ginny the warrant for her arrest. She still has fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. "This will be permanent unless we find the accused man and you are proven innocent. You will stay at the Ministry's Detention Center for Witches in Northumberland and will be permitted to have family and friends visiting rights. Do you accept these terms?"

"Yes, sir." She replies quietly. He presses his lips together in sympathy, "Come on, Ginny." She nods and looks to me. I grab her shoulder and lead her out of the Burrow. We side-along apparate to the detention center in Northumberland.

"I'll go check you in." Robards says, walking to the front desk. Ginny looks over to me with scared eyes.

"You're safe here, but if anything happens report it. They should give you one floo call a day; if they don't do anything, I'm a floo away and I'll make sure it gets straightened out." She nods and watches as Robards comes back with her brown-gray jumpsuit.

"There's a room back there, she needs a pat down and then she can be left alone to change. Potter, you can go be her escort." I nod and lead her by her arm to the back room. I close the door behind us and she turns to me with the gray suit in hands. I take the suit and throw it down onto the table.

"Put your arms out to the side." I instruct calmly. She obliges with a serious expression. I pat down her arms, her legs, and her waist. There's absolutely no shred of romance in it, actually, there's only sadness in it. I grab the gray suit once more and place it back into her hands.

"Change and then knock the door when you're done." She nods and I leave the tiny room and close the door behind me. I stand with my arms crossed waiting for her to finish changing into her jumpsuit. She's scared, I can tell she is; going to jail, well, of course it isn't a walk in the park, but it's never a pleasurable experience for the most innocent to the most guilty of people.

I hope she'll take my word seriously; that I'll set anything that goes wrong right. I feel like she understood me, but at the same time, I feel like she is too overwhelmed right now to listen to me. I lean my back against the door and hear the faint sound of sobs and harsh breaths behind me. I decide not to knock on the door to make sure she's okay, she's obviously worked up and I'll let her have this moment by herself. Hearing her cries is heartbreaking especially when you realize it's because of something you took part in.

Will she ever trust me again? Maybe; if I keep my word and find this man, just maybe she'll be able to look at me without thinking about what I've had to do to her.

There's a subtle knock on the door and I sigh before opening it up to see her with red eyes and in a gray, detention center jumpsuit. She holds her folded clothes in her hands and keeps her eyes stationed at the ground. I grab the clothes from her and lead her out of the room and down the hall where I'm supposed to send her through a doorway labelled _Tenants. _There's a window with a man in a guard uniform sitting behind a desk next to the doorway.

"Wait here." I say to her before turning to the man and handing him her clothes, "Ginevra Weasley."

The man's eyes flicker to Ginny and then back to me, "It's a shame; talented Chaser." He grunts out as he takes her clothes from me, "Just send her through the door." He gestures to the door next to him. I nod and then turn back to Ginny who's standing with her arms folded around herself and her eyes to the ground.

I grab her elbow and pull her to the side out of ears' range, "You'll be okay, I know you will be. I know it's a chore order but try to keep positive; I know your day will be filled with visitors." She nods and rubs the back of her neck with her hand, "I promise, I'll get you out of here." I repeat, "I promise."


	12. I've made a mistake I miss you

Harry

_Three weeks later…_

I sit in the concrete room twiddling my fingers, as I wait for the guards to bring Ginny in. It's been three whole bloody weeks since we had to send her to this detention center for allegedly running away and leading an investigation on a false trail. Of course, I believe that all of these allegations are complete bogus. Yet, at the same time, with what's in my pocket, I'm not completely sure anymore.

Ron and I have been assigned to frivolous cases involving teenage pranks that got out of hand and reports of noise complaints, but luckily, Robards let us, at least, sit in on the meetings for Ginny's case, as long as we keep quiet. It's nice to see that they are still working on finding this unnamed man instead of trying to prove Ginny guilty.

The other night I had gone out with Ron and our roommates from Hogwarts, and I had an epiphany during that get together. My life over the past five months has consisted of nothing but Ginny Weasley. My work, my friends, my family; all of it was pointed at Ginny and finding this man who ruined her life. Hell, I think it'd be safe to say that my life has consisted nothing other than Ginny since August of last year; when she was forcefully taken from the world. Woah, back up Harry, she didn't die; don't be so dramatic. Okay, when she disappeared from the public and private eye. Better? Much.

The metal door swings open and Ginny walks in with a guard behind her. He leaves us alone but stands outside the door looking in on us through the window. She set her hands on the table, like she is instructed to do every time she has a visitor; to be sure nothing suspicious is going on. I survey her before speaking; from the looks of it, she doesn't have any bumps or bruises; she seems perfectly healthy.

"How are you?" I ask, noticing her intense eyes are watching my every move.

"Fine, I guess." Her hair is pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, and the brown-gray jumpsuit seems to be baggier than before. I feel the paper burning in my pocket but decide to leave it for later.

"No one is hassling you?"

"No; no one even talks to me." She says, leaning her chin on her hand.

"Is there anything you want to tell me? Anything that's bothering you?"

She shakes her head, "I was a captive there, I was a captive at St. Mungo's, I was a captive at my house, and now I'm a captive here. What is there that I can do about it?"

"I'm sorry for being so abrupt, but I didn't just come here to make sure you're doing alright." I say before pulling out the folded up piece of paper, "Ginny, what is this?" I slide the note to her and I see as her eyes go wide immediately and her face turns pale. "Ginny," I start more firmly, "what is it?"

* * *

_Twenty four hours earlier…_

"Harry, how are you, dear?" Mrs. Weasley greets with less warmth than she used to have. She's tired and frustrated with the Auror Department; aren't we all. First, they drop by whenever they like, taking her daughter in for meetings, interrogations, line ups, and all sort of unbeknownst activities. Then, they arrest her, claiming that all of the chaos of the past year was her choice. And to top it off, they dismiss her two sons, really one son and another she claims to be her son, from working on the case that has disrupted their lives for so much time.

"I'm doing okay given everything that's going on." I reply, "You?"

"I'm doing okay given everything that's going on." She repeats. I nod, understanding her frustrations with the situation. "Have you visited Ginny lately?" She asks, moving into the kitchen and removing the pot of tea from the stove. I notice her hand shaking, sickly as she switches the pot from the lit burner to the dead one.

"Yeah; yesterday morning. She seemed to be doing as well as the rest of us." Mrs. Weasley nods and moves to the cupboard, using the counter as a crutch, to pull out two mugs for us.

"I visited her this morning. I was just wondering if you noticed how peaky she looked?"

"Well, yes, I did. I don't think she's served proper portions there. I filed a reform claim but I don't know if it's going to go through in time."

"In time for what?" The woman asks as she pours the tea into the first mug.

"In time for her to be freed." She presses her lips together in an unbelieving way and shakes her head.

"If the Auror Department keeps working in the pace they've been lately, she'll be there until she's forty."

"Mrs. Weasley, are you doing okay?" I ask, as I notice that she's a little peaky herself.

"I'm hanging in there, Harry." She answers before adding some sugar to her tea and handing mine to me, black, "I'm just stressed. The Ministry isn't listening to our appeals to get Ginny out of there. We tried to use the fact that they don't have evidence to back up _their _story of her running away but they come back with the fact that we don't have evidence to support Ginny's story."

"Ron and I have sat in the meetings and it looks like they're still standing behind Ginny's story." I say, sipping my tea.

"Well, if they're backing her story, why isn't she at home? I just want my baby to be home." She looks a little pale and the tea is shaking her in hands.

"Mrs. Weasley, how about we sit down?" I say, placing my hand on her shoulder to lead her to the table.

"I'm fine, Harry; just a little under the weather." She takes a seat at the end of the kitchen table and sets her tea down. I sit down on the chair closest to her and watch her closely as she rubs her forehead with her hand.

"I think you need to go to St. Mungo's to be on the safe side." She shakes her head, trying to deny any major problems with her health, "I'll floo Mr. Weasley if that's who you'd rather take you to St. Mungo's." She doesn't reply, I take that as a 'yes'.

I walk into the living room and kneel in front of the fireplace. After throwing the powder into the fire and saying the desired Ministry office, Mr. Weasley's face appeared in front of me.

"Harry? Is everything okay?"

"Um, I think Mrs. Weasley is sick, she's denying it but she's pale and shaking," I reply, "I just think she should go to St. Mungo's."

He looked genuinely concerned, "I'll be right over. Make sure she stays put and doesn't try to do anything strenuous." I nod and his face disappears. I know, I'm being a little too anxious about Mrs. Weasley's state but I think the last thing the Weasley family needs is an illness in the family to top everything off.

I walk back into the kitchen and find her exactly where I left her. Her tea is steaming next to her and she's still rubbing her forehead with her hand. I take my seat again and sip on my black tea. I don't know what to say to her at the moment. It seems like the only thing I know what to talk about anymore is Ginny and the case.

"How's Teddy doing?" She asks all of a sudden, looking at me with dazed eyes and grabbing the handle of her mug.

"He's okay; he had a few play dates with Victoire and visited his parents last weekend. I think we're going to have the talk with him soon. It's torture fibbing about his parents being away."

"We didn't teach the kids about death until they turned around five years old; of course, they hadn't really dealt with a death in the family except for the older three so I could delay it."

"I just don't know what to tell him when he gives me letters to mail to his parents; I feel guilty telling him I'll send them from my study and just keeping them in my desk and then making up replies when he asks for them."

"You'll have to be gentle at first; introduce him to the fact that they can't reply but they love him so much. Then bring up their pasts and their legacies as bedtime stories. And, when you feel it's right, you'll be able to tell him that they're watching over him although he won't be able to see it."

"Thanks, you don't understand how much that helps."

She smiles at me, "I raised seven children; I know a few things about breaking truths to innocent kids." She smiles, "Well, in Fred and George's case, a little less than innocent kids."

"Molly?" Mr. Weasley's voice is heard from the living room. He walks into the kitchen and notices Mrs. Weasley complexion. "Oh, Molly, why didn't you floo me to say that you weren't feeling well?"

"Arthur, Harry, I'm fine. I just have a headache and the chills. Once all of this blows over, I'll be right as rain."

"Well, we don't know how long it's going to take for this all to blow over so how about we go to the healers' and get something to sort you out for the time being, eh?" Begrudgingly, she complied, taking her husband's hand and grabbing her sweater from the back of a chair.

"Um, do you mind if I go to Ginny's room before I leave? I just need to check something really quick." I ask, as Mr. Weasley helps his wife get into her sweater.

"Sure, son. Can I trust you to lock up the floo gate and the house before you leave?" I nod in the affirmative. He smiles and gestures to the stairs, "Be my guest."

I start to climb the stairwell and walk down the hall until I get to Ginny's room. The door creaks open as I push through. I don't know what I'm looking for, but all I know is that Ginny had completely changed overnight and it took place in this room. Looking around at first glance, it looks completely ordinary, but there has to be something in here. Something Ginny is afraid to admit to.

I sit on her bed and look around the room, still, nothing stands out to me. I lift the blanket up to see if there is anything under her bed, hiding from prying eyes. Nope; maybe a few dust bunnies that haven't seen the light of day in over a year. I lean my elbows onto my knees sigh; why am I even trying? I'm not even on her case anymore, and I'm pretty sure searching a defendant's room is apart of an assigned auror's job.

I look over to her desk and notice it's completely reorganized than it used to be. Now, I know, that's a weird thing to notice; but Ginny was a person who hated change; change was like a dementor sucking out your soul. So, for Ginny to reorganize her desk, as mad as it sounds, was a bit strange for her. I walk to the piece of furniture and scan the surface. Just a notebook, a quill in it's holder, and the book she was reading when I came in to arrest her three weeks ago. I lift up the notebook and fan through the pages, no annotations, no hidden bookmarks; nothing. After doing the same with the book and finding nothing, I pull out the chair and open up the first drawer.

Just a few miscellaneous, stereotypical desk items; an extra jar of ink, some spare parchment, a few unused envelopes, some old Hogwarts textbooks; nothing of any suspicions. I move to the other drawer and find some drawings that looks like Ginny drew when she was younger, a few little knick knacks, some hidden chocolate frogs and Pumpkin Pasties. I already know I'm not going to find anything. Why do I even bother?

I lean up on my elbows and look out her window at the field surrounding the Burrow. The wheat blows in the wind in waves just like great pond if it wasn't so populated with muggle cargo ships and transport boats. If I was a half decent photographer, I would take a picture of the view and bring it to Ginny on my next visit; just a new sight for her to see. I probably would include the windowsill in it; she loved sitting there, especially these past few months. I guess it brought her peace; enjoying the view, maybe even getting lost in it.

My eyes sweep over to the throw pillow that sits on the windowsill. On the surface reads, "_A mother and daughter bond is unbreakable, even when the mightiest of forces try to end it." _I know Mrs. Weasley created that when Ginny was a child; it being the highlight of many conversations in our past. I reach over and pick it up in my hands; the white fabric now turning a slight yellow, and the pink aging to brown. There are little frays in the scripture, probably from the years of a person leaning back and playing with it to no end. I brush the surface a few times before realizing this trip to her room has been pointless.

Standing up, I start to place the pillow back to where it w-wait a minute. There's a little folded up piece of parchment lying on the windowsill where the pillow once sat. I furrow my eyebrows and pick it up.

_I realized I made a mistake. I miss you. _

That's all it said. Who made a mistake? Who misses Ginny? There's one thing for sure; that's not Ginny's handwriting. Actually, I've never seen that handwriting before in my life. I can't visit Ginny today; her visiting schedule has been booked by all of her friends and brothers. That's it, I'm signing out a slot for tomorrow. This has been either a great find, or a huge mistake.

* * *

_Present time…_

"Ginny, what is it?" She just stares at the note with unreadable eyes.

"Where did you get that?"

"I got it from under your windowsill pillow. But, that doesn't matter; what _does_ matter is the fact that you're getting notes from someone and not telling the aurors. Ginny, who is this?"

Her nostrils flare and her lip trembles. She refuses to look me in the eyes; just staring at the paper does her good. This man has been contacting her, hasn't he? That's why she shut down.

"Is this the man?" I ask, holding up the note so she can't not look at it. No words are spoken, but, as if Merlin couldn't have given me a greater sign, she nods her head. "When did you get it?" She doesn't reply, "Did you get this the night you submitted your sketch?" She still stays silent. I feel the temper rise from my gut and I can't help but slam my fist on the table causing her to jump, "Answer me."

"Yes." She cries, burying her head in her hands.

"How did he get this to you?" I ask, angrily. She should have told someone. This is withholding evidence.

"I don't know." She says.

"No, crying isn't going to get you out of this. You've been keeping something from everyone, but not anymore." She looks up at me, her brown eyes full of guilt, regret, fear, despair; basically every negative emotion you can think of.

I pace back and forth in the interrogation room, this time I'm not behind the glass; I'm in the room. It's just Ginny and I with a table and two chairs. Of course, Ron and Robards and probably every auror who's been assigned to this case is waiting on the other side of that mirror; waiting for answers.

* * *

"Tell me everything behind this note." I say in a very, cold way. Yes, I'm angry; if you can't tell. I even got the permission from Robards to slip Veritaserum in her pumpkin juice.

Her eyes flicker from the note to me before she clears her throat, "It started in January." She starts quietly…

_I just had one of the biggest wins in my career and I decided to stay on the field after the match ended. I thought I was alone; I thought everyone had left the pitch to go ask the team for autographs, so kicked off to go flying once more. _

_ I think I got a little caught up in the moment; doing tricks, and hollering and what not. But, then, a movement caught my eye. I looked into the dark stands but I didn't see anything move again, but I got the chills and decided to go back to the changing rooms. Something about the essence on the pitch scared me so I felt like I had to get out. _

_ I remember changing into a pair of jeans and one of the team shirts and then leaving the fitting room to go to the autograph table. I left my bag in there on the ground not thinking that anyone would steal it or in this case plant something in it. _

_ After signing autographs, I met up with you, Ron and Hermione, and you lot suggested going out for drinks, but I said that I needed to get my bag and leave it at home. So, we said we'd meet up with them at the pub and would go and get my things sorted before joining them. We just flooed home and threw my gym bag into the living room before flooing back to the pub. That night we got home late and I was pretty sloshed that I didn't think about taking my laundry out of the bag until the next morning. And that's when I found the first note. _

_ It said something along the lines of, _"Great job, today. You were beautiful as always." _To be honest, I thought it was from you. But, when I brought it up at breakfast you said you never left me a note and I brushed it off saying that it must have been from one of the girls then. But, after you left for work, I went back to it and read it over and over, before I just threw it in the fire. It freaked me out. Someone had left me a note in my gym bag of all places, and it couldn't have been from the girls because it wasn't there when I got changed and they didn't go back in there until after I picked up my bag._

_ The next thing came about two weeks after that, when my new poster came out. You were out on a mission and I came home alone and found the poster rolled up on the kitchen table with a rose. I put out a _Homenum Revelio_ charm but no one was there. I locked up the floo gate and locked all the doors because I was unnerved by it all; that's why you had to apparate straight into the living room when you got back that next morning. _

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, before letting her continue.

She shrugs, "I wasn't sure what was going on. I didn't want to think of the worst with that first note, and I convinced myself that someone may have mailed me that rose and poster with an owl and that's how it got there."

I press my lips together, frustrated at her lack of letting me in, but I let her continue…

_I started to get more and more notes in shorter grace periods. I would find them in my post box in Holyhead, in my Harpy dormitory, in my locker at the pitch, and in the randomest of places. None of them consisted of more than a couple short sentences, and none of them were threatening until August came around. _

_ I got a note on my birthday when I was at the spa with Hermione. I had fallen asleep on the massage table and the masseuse woke me up. She told me she had left me to get changed but when I never let her know I was finished she got worried. I put my robe on and left to find Hermione when I found another note in my pocket. _

I can't wait until I finally get to meet you again.

_I didn't really know for sure what that meant, so I put it in my old Hogwarts textbook in my desk at the Burrow. I was on guard for the next couple of weeks, thinking that someone was going to pop out on me when I least expected it. But, after about two weeks of no notes, no presents, no one coming after me, I thought that maybe it was over. I thought that maybe it was just some kind of freaky, practical joke. _

_And then, it was my night to polish the broomsticks. Everyone left, and to be honest, I felt safe, but to be on the safe side, I closed the door to the closet and polished the broomsticks with the little light I had. After I finished, I locked the door and then quickly walked to the floo gate. But, when I turned the corner, everything went black. _

_The next thing I remember is waking up on a torn up mattress and seeing him pace back and forth. I was telling the truth when I said he had been freaking out over what he had done. But, he _did _show himself to me a few more times than just to give me one meal a day. _

_I watched my memorial service; the one for the Wizarding World at Holyhead. He would give me _Daily Prophet _articles_ _that reported on me or my family or my friends. He told me that I wasn't allowed to leave because I was going to get him in trouble but, I could see my family and friends through the papers. It was like I never left, although, it was exactly like I left; I mean, I missed so much. _

I still pace as I hear that story, "Why didn't you tell us the day that you got this note?" I ask, holding up the note once more.

"Because, you lot have done such a stellar job trying to catch this man, I thought if I reported this, you would have put it out to the media that you've had a major step in your case he'd stop sending me notes. But, that doesn't matter, obviously, because he hasn't sent me any since."

"Why did close yourself off from the world after you got it?"

"Because I realized what it meant if I was going to see him again. I remembered the year of hunger and being constantly scared of his mood swings; if I said the wrong thing he would throw things across the room, sometimes at me. And when I started to cry, he would get really close to me and try to swaddle me. It was the worst year of my life and I was about to offer myself up just to get him out of my life for good."

"You should have told us all of this in the first interview."

"I was afraid to."

I lean up onto the table, my anger still prominent, "Afraid of what?"

"Of this!" She snaps. It catches me off guard, I stand back onto my feet, "I was scared of this happening."

"What exactly?"

"You looking at me like I'm the criminal. You being so angry with me that you can't even look at me the same way. I was afraid of being shunned for making stupid decisions. I put my life in danger because I was too scared that you would be hooked on finding someone that hadn't even shown themselves to me a year ago. If I told you about the notes before, you wouldn't be looking after Teddy, you wouldn't be doing anything but sitting at your desk, working."

I glance at the mirror and then back at her, "Well that doesn't matter, does it? I'm not even working your case." She looks away from me and then back to the note that taunts her from afar. "You wasted so much time, when you could have told us all of this before. You're mother went to the hospital and had to be put on loads of potions because you being locked up has made her sick to her stomach with worry." That seemed to get her attention, "You know, I took it upon myself to get you out of that center because I felt like I was the one who put you in there."

She looks up at me with beady eyes. I think of all that time she had been lying to me when I asked her if she was okay, or how her day went. I think about all those times I told her I would get her out of the detention center and she just nodded. Or all of those line ups I had held her hand through, thinking that her uncomfort was because she was afraid of seeing him again, when really, it was because she was afraid of going home to a new note that she wasn't even going to tell anyone about, "But, I don't have anymore sympathy for you; you put yourself in there."

I turn on my heel and leave, slamming the door behind me. I know I'm going to regret that, but, right now, at this very moment, I need a drink.


	13. Franks

**A/N: Unsub means UNknown SUBject (Person of Interest really)**

Ginny

"Ginny, supper will be ready in a few minutes." Mum says from my door. I nod and watch as she ducks into my room. It's been a pretty rough week, for one, my mom was diagnosed with chronic anxiety and paranoia, sounds simple but, this is why she had the chills and a fever last week. The healers had told Dad that anxiety and paranoia can have that effect on people; causing them to actually become physically ill. You learn something everyday.

All my brothers were home in England for the first time since the war, or maybe my funeral, I can't be sure. The Harpies had paid me a few visits to welcome me home from Northumberland and the DA all joined us for a large Sunday dinner. But, out of all of these visits and dinners, one person has been absent; Harry.

I know, I hurt him; I didn't tell him what was going on a year ago and I didn't tell him when it started to happen again. I thought I was being clever; wouldn't it be impressive if the victim solves their own case? But, no; I've realized now that I made a mistake and I've never seen him so mad at me

_"Just give it time, Gin; he doesn't love you any less; he's just a little frustrated with the situation." _Hermione would tell me over and over, but it never calmed me down. If he was 'frustrated with the situation' he would still come around and at least check to see if I was okay. No, he's frustrated with _me_.

_"I mean, yeah, you kind of messed up but it's a common mistake that victims make. Harry just thought that it wouldn't be as complicated and this whole note thing is making it complicated." _Ron's common thoughts would be to me after dinner.

_"Can I just see him to apologize?" _I would ask.

_"No; he has to come here. You're not allowed to leave._" Ron would always reply.

I just want to apologize. I don't care if he's decided that he doesn't want anything to do with me, but I, at least, want to make amends over my ammature mistake. I stand up from my bed and stretch my shoulders; my days have consisted of eating, locking myself in my room, reading the same book and napping. Two days ago, aurors had startled me and confiscated the Hogwarts textbook that had the note inside; luckily it was still there. They didn't tell me otherwise, but that's good, right? It's the same handwriting as the note that was sent to me about three months ago and if they perform their little techniques on it I'm sure they can see it was created at the same time as my story.

If a red flag just went up in your mind, don't worry; I told the truth, the whole truth, during my interview with Harry. But, with how this case has gone, it would only be my luck if they found that the notes weren't plausible. I walk down the steps and look toward the table to see who will be joining us for dinner. Everytime I come downstairs for dinner, I secretly hope that Harry will be sitting at that table, but everyday I'm let down.

Ron and Hermione smile up to me, it's not returned, then George and Angie, Bill and Fleur with Dom's baby carrier between them and Victoire sitting, really squirming, to Fleur's right. Along with them comes Percy, Audrey, Molly, Charlie, and lastly, my mum and dad. It's like it's a normal, Weasley Sunday dinner. But, if it was normal, I would have come in late from Holyhead and Harry would be sitting in one of those two, empty, consecutive chairs. I take my seat and the crowd starts to eat, knowing that I hate it when they stare at me like a new puppy.

I take a small spoonful of mashed potatoes, and a small piece of chicken and line them on my plate. I think that's enough. I lean my head on my hand and puncture my chicken with my fork.

_"You put yourself in there." _Harry's voice rings through my head. I look down at my chicken and realize how nauseous it makes me feel. The saddest part of all of this is that I agree with him. If I had just told them what had really happened, would I be in the situation I'm in now? They probably would have caught the man by now and Harry and I, well, we probably wouldn't be in the position we are.

"Ginny, we have a dress fitting on tuesday, do you think you can still make it?" I nod; I know, earlier Ron said that I couldn't leave the Burrow, but the truth is, I can. It's a very, long, tedious process. I have to submit the request about a month in advance, I have to get the manager or owner to sign off on it, in this case the store owner. After that, my mother has to sign a long form that gives her permission and promises her companionship with me during my leave; she's coming with me. Then Angie has to get the whole group to sign a form saying that they're going to be with me on this little outing. And then, to top it all off, an auror is assigned to watch us from a distance; basically, to make sure that no suspicious business is happening around us.

"How are the wedding plans coming along, Angie?" Hermione asks from the other side of the table.

"They're coming along, slowly, but _are _still coming along." She glances at George and he gives her one of his infamous smirks, "I'm just ready to get the day over with and be married to this goof."

I watch them; I watch how their hands are intertwined between their plates, how they look at each other when the other one is speaking. Were Harry and I like that? I mean, I know all of my brothers would give us grief for being too 'gooey' in front of them, but I never thought that were that bad.

"We all wish you the best of luck, Angie; marrying George is like offering up yourself as bait to a Hungarian Horntail." Bill comments before taking a sip of his butterbeer.

Everyone chuckles at Bill's comment before Angie runs her hand through her fiance's hair, "I don't thinks so; I think it's agreeing to go to a comedy club for one hundred percent of you life."

All of my brothers roll their eyes, Ron throwing a few peas their way. But, I'm not giving them a hard time; I'm happy they're so sure about each other. I'm happy they have been given the chance to have an uncomplicated future.

"So, I spoke to Harry this morning," My father says out of the blue. Immediately, I look up to him with wrapped attention, "Molly, he says that he can't find Teddy's books; he was wondering if Teddy left them here the last time he stayed here." I can feel my gut drop when there's no message from him to me.

"I don't know, dear, I can look; Teddy was so wound up that day, they could be anywhere. Ginny, do you have any idea where the books could be?" I shake my head and play with my mashed potatoes.

"Hey, Gin." Hermione says, taking a seat next to me in the living room.

I glance at her and then back to the fire, "Hey, 'Mione."

"You didn't each much at dinner; are you feeling well?"

"I feel fine." She nods and leans back against the sofa.

"I know how you're feeling."

I subtly shake my head, "No, you don't; Ron's in the other room and he's talking to you. I'm in the dog house and probably going to stay there for a long time."

"I don't think so." She says, "I think Harry's feeling just as horrible about snapping at you as you are with keeping secrets from him."

"No; you didn't see his eyes. He's really angry with me." I sigh, "And it's obvious he still is, since he hasn't even come around to check up on me."

"Gin, he's trying to keep his distance; Harry and Ron just got approved to be back on the case and he doesn't want to be distracted from finding this man."

"Oh, so I'm a distraction?" I snap.

"I think you're the distraction he's had since he was sixteen years old. That kind of distraction that made him skive off from studying and go to the Great Lake for an 'enjoyable' afternoon."

"He did that a lot, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did. But, I don't think you were a negative distraction; if anything, you distracted him from everything that was brewing. And that's what you were doing when he was first on the case."

"I just want to see him and apologize." I finally blurt out. She looks at me with sad eyes.

"I'll try to get him here for you. I think it will do you both some good."

"What would do good for who?" Ron asks, three butterbeers in hand.

"Harry and Ginny, if they finally talk after what, two weeks of silence?" Ron presses his lips together like he doesn't think that's the best idea.

"I don't know about that Hermione; Harry was very clear that he wants to have some time to himself."

"So, he's just going to coward out of facing Ginny after he screamed at her for being scared to tell him something?" Hermione asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Ironic, really."

"Hermione, don't tell me you're mad at him too."

"Well, aren't you?" She asks her boyfriend in disbelief.

"Do I like that fact that he let my sister have it in front of a room full of people; obviously not. But, do I feel like I should completely hate him for it; not really. I mean, I'm on your side, Gin; I think he needs to realize how hard it is for you, but at the same time, I think he feels betrayed that he let you in on everything in his life; you would know every detail about his day, but you didn't tell him you were being stalked. Did you not trust him?" His eyes now on me.

"Of course, I trusted-I mean, trust him. I wasn't sure what was going on, and you know Harry, if I brought something like this up to him he would be all over it and would have a team of aurors following me every second of every day." I argue, "Plus, these notes weren't threatening, even that last one wasn't all that threatening; I didn't think that this would all happen."

Ron rubs his eyes, "You still should have reported it."

I roll my eyes, how many times have I heard that in the past two weeks? "Oh, really, Ron? I've never heard that before."

"I'm just trying to understand what had happened." I breath out through my nose and take another sip of my butterbeer.

"I'll get Harry over here, Ginny." Hermione interjects, "I'll steal his glasses if that's what it takes." I look to her and break out in a giggle. Ron's eyes tear to his girlfriend in shock, soon sniggers break out from his throat.

"Honestly, Hermione, if he doesn't want to come over here, don't force it." I say after the laughter stops, "I don't want him to find me any more annoying than I already have made myself to be."

Getting here has been a process; I mean, I knew it would be, but this is chaos to a whole new level. First, everyone had to meet up at the Burrow, that had been planned. But, before any of us could floo away, the auror who had been assigned for this outing had pat us all down, as though we were convicts, and pulled out a portkey. We portkeyed to the lobby of the dress shop about ten minutes late, and we thought that the security was over. No, the auror then had to ask for all of the staff to come out and answer a few questions about keeping us safe.

I felt horrible for the staff members-actually, scratch that-I felt horrible for myself who had been pointed to be the reason they need to go through this security check. Only a couple of people had recognized me, either from my Quidditch career or my face that had been sprinkled across every news article for the past year.

But, finally, we are now in separate dressing rooms, trying on the dress design that Angelina chose about three weeks ago. It's a dark blue, chiffon, strapless dress with a folded torso. There's no lace, no buttons, no jewels, just straight chiffon, and I love it. I have always found that the simpler the dress, the better.

I leave my little room to show off what the dress looks like on me, it's okay fitting, I guess. Well, let me backtrack; it fits fine, but I don't look that great in it. I'm just too thin now; too boney, too frail-looking. If we had been doing this a year ago, I don't think I would even bat an eye at how I look it in; not that I think I was perfect back then, but I definitely was more comfortable in my skin.

"You look beautiful, Ginny." Katie Bell compliments me as she leaves her dressing room. I smile at her and then look back to me in the mirror.

"Thanks, Katie. You look beautiful yourself." I gesture to her in the same dress as me but in black.

"I really like Angie's idea of a 'starry night' theme. I just hope the white dress and purple dress mesh well with our dresses."

"I'm sure they will, and if they don't, they'll just put us in an order,so it's not as noticeable."

"Is Harry one of the groomsmen?" She asks, brushing off the top of her skirt. I glance at her then back to my dress.

"Yeah," I answer, she doesn't know anything about what has been going on with the case and, well, our relationship-if there is one. "I think they've already tried their dress robes on."

"The day is coming so fast," She sounds breathy, "I feel like I'm about to lose my best friend. I mean, that's silly, she's just changing her last name, but marriage is such a big step. I guess I thought George and Angelina would be the last people to settle."

"Yeah, I felt the same way," _and then I went missing and came back to find a ring on Angie's finger, _"but I guess they just really love each other."

But, I see that Katie is now looking behind me. I turn around and see Angelina walking out of the curtain with a long, satin dress. It's strapless with three ribbons around the waist; one black, one blue, one purple. There is a dusting of silver glitter that runs down the skirt of the gown and it displays the same torso that we have. I'm speechless as I look at her smiling in the mirror.

"Angelina!" One of her cousins screech in a very girly way. She jumps up and down and claps her hands. "You look absolutely gorgeous!"

"Thanks, Miriam." Angie smiles, beaming head to toe.

"You have one more month, Angelina! You're about to be a Weasley!" Katie follows in suit with Angie's work mate. The upcoming bride looks at me with joy and I supply her with a simple, excited smile.

She sighs, happily, "I can't wait."

"-went on for hours debating on whether the old statue should be completely demolished or kept as an artifact of history. But, the way Kingsley and I see it is that if we keep that statue anywhere in the Wizarding World then it's still promising power to the remaining Death Eaters."

"So, are they going to keep it or are they demolishing it?"

"We haven't come to the conclusion; half of the governors want to keep it in a museum or even just a solitary room in the Ministry, whilst the other half plus Kingsley and I want to destroy it. I mean, it's not very welcoming to muggle borns to know that there is a statue somewhere in the Ministry that represents stomping them out."

I listen to my dad with wrapped attention, "I think it should be obliterated off the face of the Earth if you ask me." My parents look at me and crack a smile.

"We're right there with you; but it seems some high class governors disagree."

"They're probably scared of change, or admitting that their old ways of thinking were wrong." Mum reasons.

"Probably, Molly, but when it comes to a select few, I think their thinking hasn't changed at all."

"Well, are you two finished with dinner?" My mum asks, grabbing her plate and standing up.

"Yeah, darling, I'll help you." My dad responds, grabbing his plate and my plate off of the table. I stand up, thank my mum for dinner and then climb back up the staircase to my room.

I sit back onto my windowsill with my pillow hugged to my chest. It's now been three weeks since I was released from Northumberland but it feels like it was only yesterday. Being stuck in this house has made all of the days mosh together and I can't tell you the specific date even if you showed me a calendar. But, I do know it's a Friday; because my dad commented on the fact that he'll finally be able to sleep in tomorrow morning.

I look out the window toward the Quidditch pitch my dad had built for us one Christmas. That was one of the biggest presents we had ever gotten; next to Errol. I remember waking up in the morning and being a little disappointed as I saw absolutely no presents under the tree. I think we all were a little despondent. But, when my dad told us to follow him outside, and we finally saw the big present for Christmas, I don't think anyone of us cared that it was the only thing we had gotten. I mean, along with the six hoops and a two meter long bench came a set of balls, and four broomsticks. Bill and Charlie had had their own broomsticks before then, the other four when to Percy, Fred, George, and Ron.

Of course, I didn't get one due to the fact I was still three or four. Or at least that's what my parents told me; I know it really had to do with money, and how much it put a dent in my parents' vault. I had my toy broomstick inside but I wasn't allowed to ride it outside. Something that I hadn't understood then, but now, watching Teddy ride around the Burrow's living room on his, makes me completely understand and stand by my parents firmness over keeping that bloody thing inside.

A dot appears in the sky. I can't tell what it is but I can tell it's heading toward the house. It grows bigger, and bigger, and soon there's a definition of wings. I squint my eyes as I see the approaching owl. That's strange; it's not Errol, or Pigwidgeon. As it flies closer, I notice it's not going to the kitchen window where owls usually go.

I get up from the window seat and take a few steps back from the glass. Before I know it, my back is up against the wall as the owl viciously taps on my window; his wings spread out to his sides. I slowly walk to the frame and lift it open. The owl spits the note into the room before turning and flying away.

I can feel a lump in my throat form as I pick up the discarded envelope from my carpet. After tearing open the package I read:

_I'll see you again. Visit me at my favorite place. I'll be waiting._

"Mum!" I call out, leaning onto the railing of the stairwell.

"Yes?"

"Floo Harry. Tell him it's an emergency."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure, just floo Harry!" I go back to my room and reread the note. This time I'm not going to keep it to myself. I'm not going to mess up this time. It's not long before I hear the flames in the fireplace and a new voice from downstairs. There's sounds of footsteps on the staircase and then, before I know it, he's in the doorway.

"What's wrong?" He seems worried, like he had expected to see me dead on the floor.

I hold up the note and he immediately snatches it from my hands. I watch as he reads it; maybe two or three times.

"When did you get this?" He looks up at me with dark eyes.

"Just now, I swear."

He surveys the note once more before meeting my eyes once again, "Where is his favorite place?"

"I honestly don't know." I reply.

"Come on; we're going to the auror department."

I sit, not in the interrogation room, but in Harry's cubicle. I remember countless lunches we've eaten in here for fun in the past years. He sits back into his chair and reads over the file in his hands, I'm guessing it's my own. I sit, in my own discomfort, watching as he compares the note side by side with whatever is in that manila folder.

His eyes flash to me and then back to the file. I redirect my eyes to my hands and then look around the cubicle. Gray, dull, boring. Yeah, it's the same cubicle we ate countless lunches in. He has everything in an organized, spit-spot manner, except a picture frame, that's lying face down on the desk behind him.

"Potter, what in the hell do y-" Robards voice sounds from the doorway, I turn around and our eyes meet, "-I mean, what do you need me for?"

Harry looks up from the folder, "Looks like the _unsub _has reached out once more." Robards clears his throat and moves behind Harry to read the note that was sent to me.

Robards' intense eyes land on me, "Where is his 'favorite place'?"

"I don't know; honestly. He never told me anything about his favorite things." He grabs the folder from Harry and scans over it.

Harry studies me before starting to pace along the wall, "Okay, well, maybe it's a place that he visited you a lot. Did he ever mention any areas he would see you at before the attack?"

"Just the matches."

"Okay, so the Pitch. There's a possibility it's the Pitch."

Robards' gruff voice sounds once more, "That wouldn't make any sense; it's too public, if he wants Ginny to meet him somewhere, it wouldn't be where he can get caught." He closes the folder and puts it down on the desk.

"Yes, but he may think that's a place where Ginny can go. Anyhow, think about it, he was able to catch Ginny there once, he may be trying to recreate that." I watch as Harry reasons with his boss.

"That would be a stupid move, if you're insinuating that he'd try and re-kidnap Ginny at the exact same place he kidnapped her before."

"He may not be all that bright. Plus, with different disorders, they identify with patterns; to him it might seem as though that's the place to meet her again."

"So, if it is the Pitch, what should we do about it? Send Ginny there to get him to be there too? That may just about work."

"No; I never said that-"

"Yes, but, Potter, that may be the way to go; if he sees his prize, he'll let his guard down and we'll be able to snatch him."

"Yeah, and then let her go missing again in the process?"

"We can have aurors put the place on lockdown after her gets there and then catch him before he can do anything to her."

"Absolutely not; that's jeopardizing the victim's safety."

"Not if we have her under every protective charm in the book, and there are over a hundred aurors on the scene, she'd be totally secure."

"How about we put in a place holder? You know, a girl who looks like Ginny but is a trained auror."

"No, we need the actual Ginny for this to go smoothly."

"How about Polyjuice Potion? We can have one of the female aurors take Polyjuice Potion to disguise herself as Ginny, that way we're not putting Ginny at risk, and the 'victim' we're putting out there has been trained to defend themselves."

I feel a punch to my chest as I hear Harry insinuate that I can't defend myself. That's rich coming from the man who actually trained me to do just that.

"Let's just schedule a meeting for tomorrow afternoon and we'll get our game plan then." Robards says with one last grunt before striding out of the cubicle. I'm now left alone with Harry and, well, awkward tension in this place. I turn back around to him and see him staring at me. Immediately, I feel my stomach tie in knots and, oh what a surprise, my face goes red under his deterring eyes.

"Come on." He says grabbing his black jacket from the back of his chair. I nod, and follow him out of the cubicle. We walk in silence down the hallway and into the elevator. He stands, with his hands in his pockets as the elevator drives us forward and then to the right. The only sound is the creaking from the light above us but he seems completely oblivious to it. After minutes of disturbing silence, the elevator door opens to the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He starts to walk down the marble halls, I stay by his side.

But, strangely enough, we pass the floo gates without stopping. And before I know it, he's leading me to the exit to Muggle London.

"Harry? Where are you taking me?" I ask, nervously.

"You're with a fully qualified auror, I think you'll be okay." He says, off handedly. I flicker my eyes to him and decide not to ask anymore questions. We walk down the cement sidewalks of Muggle London until we stop in front of a Muggle van that's parked at a sidewalk. Curious. I follow Harry's lead and walk to the side of it and see an opened window with a colorful board hanging beside it.

_Rocco's Food Truck_

"What would you like?" Harry asks, nodding to the menu.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you want to eat?"

"Wait, you buy food here?" I ask, scanning the wide, pink van.

"That's why they call it a 'food truck'." He looks down at me with a serious yet, maybe, humorous expression.

I shake my head, "I already had dinner." He raises his eyebrows at me before turning back to the window where a man is leaning on the frame with a plastic nappy-looking thing on his head and latex gloves on his hands.

"Two franks." He orders. He turns to face me and I glance at him before watching the man pull two franks from the pot on his little, portable, muggle stove.

"Here you are." The man serves the food and we find a bench a couple blocks away to sit. He unwraps one of the franks and bites into it, watching the muggle cars go by.

"So, you've started to branch out on your private menu, haven't you." He stops chewing for a second and wipes his mouth. I gulp; maybe that's not the best conversation starter, "I mean, it's not bad, I just never thought you'd buy and then eat food from a car." I feel the unsettling lump in my throat quiver and I look away from his unadulterated gaze.

"Look," He says, as he finishes off his frank and balls the foil into a ball, "to say I'm not angry with you, would be a lie." I squeeze my eyes shut, afraid of what is to come, "But," He starts, "at the same time, I'm not angry at all; I really shouldn't be in the first place." I furrow my eyebrows and look to him once more, his gaze is now on the curb and he's rolling the aluminum ball back and forth in his hands, "I think I'm just angry at what's happened to you, what's happened to all of us. I mean, the war has been over for four years, I'm twenty-one years old for Merlin's sake. Life is supposed to be peaceful, easier, now that all of that hell is over."

"Agreed."

"But, here we are, still fighting the Bludgers that come our way." He starts to shake his head and his eyes finally look at me, now, it's not in a hard way, but a meaningful, emotional way, "I don't want to be angry anymore, Ginny. I don't want to work as long anymore. I want to go home, and spend time with my godson. I want to be able to relax and wind down after a regular, nine to five day." He pauses and our eyes lock once more, "I want to go back in time to that summer, when that was the life I had."

"Then in tomorrow's meeting, vouch for me to go to the Pitch." He hands push off of his knees and he rubs his forehead, "Please, Harry, I know how to defend myself. Plus, you all can be there too, in the darkness hiding from him. I can do it, plus I'd be able to calm him down and delay him. Some girl in disguise can't do that; especially if she doesn't know anything about him."

"Ginny, it's not about whether you can defend yourself or not; it's about keeping you safe, and you going to the Pitch to lure him there too is-well, it's risky."

"I like risk. Who doesn't like risk?"

"It's not up for discussion. I won't allow you to go and offer yourself up as bait. End of story." I open and then close my mouth and look away, shaking my head, "Why are you fighting with me on this? Can't you see the danger? It's obvious." Funny, we've seen to switch roles on the matter of giving ourselves up for the greater good.

"I just want to help catch him. I mean, I've delayed the investigation enough already, I just want to help close it completely."

"You've done enough." He says simply throwing the ball of aluminum in the trash. He stands up with the other frank in hand. "Let's get you home." He offers his arm to me with a peaceful look on his face. I hesitantly accept it and start to walk with him down the cement sidewalk.

"Will you let me know what happens in the meeting tomorrow?" I ask as I stand on the front porch with him.

"Maybe." He says, seriously.

I nod, "Thank you for, you know, talking to me, finally."

"Well, Hermione had been bugging me all week about it, I just wanted to do it in my own time. But, looks like this John Doe pushed me to it." I nod and look up to the moon that is shining, full, tonight. "Here." He says putting the other frank in my hand.

"In case you get hungry." He walks off of the porch and to the apparation site. Eat this grub? No, thank you.

I walk inside and set it on the counter. At least we broke the ice today. I walk into the living room where my mum is reading by the fire, "Enjoy your night?"

I silently snort and smile, "In a way."

"Well go up and shower, then off to bed with you."

I nod and leave the room. After showering and putting on fresh clothes I listen as my mum climbs up the stairs and shuts her bedroom door behind her. I sneak back down the kitchen and lean against the counter, staring at it.

He seemed to like; and he's a pickier eater than I am. I tap my fingers on the wood before giving in. I mean, one frank doesn't hurt.


	14. It's Over

Harry

"No word from the Prime Minister?"

"He said that searching through their records is going to take time. He has his law enforcement working as we speak."

"Any red flags found in our system?"

"None, so far, but, I can have the Department of Records and Identities check once more."

"No use, if there wasn't an identification yesterday, there won't be today."

"So, then why have we been called into this meeting, Robards?"

"Yesterday, the unsub reached out to Ms. Weasley once more." I glance at Ron, and see his eyes flash with shock. "He wants to meet her somewhere, probably to take her back. This is our chance to act and arrest him once and for all."

"Did he say where he wants to meet Ginny?" A senior auror says from the end of the table.

"There is no specific location written out in the note, but it does ask for his 'favorite place'?"

"Did Weasley have any idea where that was?" Another man asks.

"No, but we believe he's talking about the Pitch at Holyhead. That's where he kidnapped her the first time, that's where he would watch her on countless occasions, I firmly believe that that's where he wants to see her again."

"When?"

"There's no specific time or location stated. But, we believe he'll either send Ginny another message on when, or he's waiting for her at this very moment and won't leave until he has her." Ron glances at me and I can tell he knows where this is going, "I believe, we can lure him to the Pitch if we have Ginny actually meet him there."

"And how do you expect we do that?"

"If we set it up that it looks like Ginny sneaks out of her house at midnight and apparates to the Pitch alone, we can most definitely lure him their. This time it will be under our control; we can put the trace back on her, give her a portkey in case something goes wrong and she needs to be brought back to a safe location. Have a team of aurors at the Weasley residence, and a team at the Harpies' Pitch, and manipulate him into walking to his own arrest."

"That's putting Ginny into a dangerous position. Aren't there ethics against this?"

"If we have your sister's consent, ethics aren't a question anymore."

I feel my throat close, "I don't understand why we can't just use a placeholder under Polyjuice Potions."

"Because, Potter, Ginny has been around this man, she said she knew how to calm him down, make him feel better. She may have a confuzzled memory now, but in his presence, it may come back to her. An auror under Polyjuice can say the wrong things, act differently; this man knew Ginny, his life surrounded it for years, he'll notice if it's not the real Ginny."

"Does that matter? It's not like he'll know we're onto him. He bloody well can't outsmart the auror department." Ron argues from beside me.

"Of course he knows we're onto him. If he is so _in love _with Ginny Weasley, he'd know her connections to the auror department and, of course, that Ginny would very well divulge his notes to us. Ginny's absence to the scene would set him on edge and he'll make a run for it."

"So, when are we carrying this out?" Kravitz asks.

"Tonight."

"Tonight?" I interrupt, "You're planning on having this all done today? We still need to get Ginny's permission."

Robards shakes his head, "Already have." He says, opening the door to the meeting room revealing Ginny standing with his receptionist. I feel my stomach drop thinking about the fact that Robards had already had this set up.

"Ms. Weasley, Kravitz," Robards says gesturing to the auror against the wall, "will take you for the reestablishment of the trace down the hall, and then we'll get your portkey to you and start to set up for tonight." He says in a calm, warm way. Her eyes cut away from him and to me, they are filled with uncertainty yet determination.

I try not to react in any way, I know she is aware of my disapproval on this subject but I also know what her argument would be. _You didn't check for my approval when you went parading to the forest alone_, she would say, _pretty hypocritical if you ask me. _

Kravitz stands and escorts Ginny out of the room. I look to Ron who's fuming; if I hadn't expected this, I would be too. Robards turns to us and starts to go through the mission in detail. He had told the staff at Holyhead to not report to work today, due to the fact that a alleged convict may be there. Ginny is going to 'sneak out' of the Burrow at midnight, she'll have a team of aurors there with her, to make sure she safely makes it to the apparation point and disappears away. Once the Holyhead team gets the message from the trace that Ginny apparated, they'll leave their hideout in the Pitch's cellar and quickly, and quietly, locate Ginny and the unsub, where they'll give Ginny a chance to talk him into giving himself up, but if not, surround him within five minutes and arrest him.

Probably to avoid conflict with us, he assigned Ron and I to the team at Holyhead, therefore we can make sure Ginny is safe and immediately take her back home if she doesn't want to carry out the plan anymore.

* * *

Ginny

Kravitz walks me to the room and opens the door. I look in and immediately my eyes find a wand box on the table. I glance at him and he nods to it, almost as if saying, _yes, that's yours._ I hastily walk to the box and open the lid; it _is _my wand. I take it out and pass it back and forth in my hands.

"Robards had to put in a request to speed up the process; we just got it in this morning." I look around the room and mutter a _Wingardium Leviosa _at the desk lamp. Works perfectly. "Okay, Weasley, don't get too excited, you'll be bored with it in about two weeks."

"Obviously you don't know what it's like not to have one anymore."

I set it back into the wand box and turn to him. He pulls out a few papers from a manila folder, "Sign here, and here, and there." He orders, handing me a quill.

I sign a cursive _Ginevra Weasley _on all three lines, I guess this is to give my permission to replace the trace on me. He closes the file and takes a couple steps back before pointing his wand to me and muttering a few spells. A golden glow surrounds me, I glance at my wand, which is surrounded around the same golden forcefield. And just as quickly it came, it disappeared.

"Are you relieved?" He asks, nonchalantly.

"Relieved?"

"To know after tonight, it's going to be all over?"

"I'll get back to you when tonight is over."

I pace back and forth in my room. It's 'lights out' as the aurors call it; where we simulate, if the unsub is watching, my family going to bed and falling asleep. Of course, I'm not going to sleep since I'm meeting him tonight. But, now, as I pace, I realize all the flaws in the plan; what if he's not even at the Pitch tonight. He never gave me a specific time to meet him, not even a day. What if he has a plan with the aurors and knows how to get around them.

Eleven forty-five. Just fifteen more minutes until I leave. I look to my mum, who's sitting in the corner, nervously twiddling her fingers together. I look out my window once more; scanning the wheat, I don't see any watchers. That's good, right? I mean, it may mean he's at the Pitch right now. I back away from the window and take a seat on my bed.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I don't think my nerves can take this.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock

Does it seem hot in here?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock

Just five more minutes.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I can feel bile rise in my throat.

"Ginny, please be safe." My mum whispers as I put my jacket on.

"I will, Mum; plus the auror department will be with me. And so will Ron and Harry; I think I'm more safe tonight than I've ever been."

"I know, just," She pauses, "don't give him the opportunity to capture you again." I nod and leave her in my room. I make eye contact with the auror on the stairwell. He escorts me down the stairs and to the foyer where Robards is standing.

"When you get there, I'll apparate over as well, and sneak into the Pitch through the back entrance. The team will be coming through both the east and west entrances, so make sure you keep him away from those exits if possible."

"Okay."

"How are you feeling?"

"Nervous."

"Don't be; you're supposed to make him feel completely trusted and safe. If you come in nervous, he'll know it's a trick. You're safe, even if you feel in danger you're one hundred percent safe."

"Because even if I go missing once more, I still have the trace on me."

"Exactly, if you go, you won't be gone more than an hour." I take a deep breath and face the door. He nods and I swiftly open the door and quietly close it behind me. I look to my left and right, seeing if he's out here on the field. No one. I tip-toe to the apparation point, hoping that if he's here he'll pop out now, so the aurors can just stun him and I can go back inside. I get to the point and glance back at the house, I can't see the aurors but I know they're there; watching me.

With one final breath, I apparate away to Holyhead. Immediately, the crickets and the wind goes silent and all I hear is the occasional tick of a clock and the sound of my footsteps in the corridors. I pause for a second, thinking about what is about to happen.

"Ginny?" I hear a muffled voice call out. I feel my stomach drop and take a deep breath once more. I walk forward and go around the corner where I see a dark figure standing in the middle of the corridor. "Ginny."

"I didn't know you'd be here tonight." I say, politely. Standing still, so I don't get close to him. I glance at the posters and the walls around me. It looks like I'm in the south corridor, not too far away from the west exit where some of the aurors will be coming through from.

"I've missed you, Ginny." He says in his soft voice. I nod.

"Me too." I gulp once more and see as he takes a step forward.

"I didn't think I'd see you again."

"I didn't think so, either." I take another breath, "But, you reached out."

I can see a faint smile play on his face, "I thought you'd like me to write you a note again." I nod in agreement and try to listen to footsteps behind me, but I don't hear any yet.

"Do you still want to be my friend?" He has the mentality of a twelve year old, and the innocence of a twelve year old. I didn't know what to say, so I just faintly nodded, trying to keep my breaths under control and my lip from trembling. "You do?" He asks, excitedly.

"Of course." I answer, feeling a lump form in my throat.

And then, my heart stops. I hear faint footsteps from behind me.

"Who's that?" He asks, scared. I stand still, "Who's that?" He yells. The footsteps get closer and I decide that's my cue.

"I'm going to give you a choice; you can come with me, and meet my other friends. Or you they'll come to you." I see him start to take a few steps backward, "They're all really nice people, and you won't be in trouble; they just want to meet you."

"That's a lie!"

"No; no, it's not a lie." I say as calmly as possible, "Listen, my brother is here and so is my boyfriend. You can trust both of them, they'll make sure you're safe and that you don't get in trouble."

"Stop!" He yells, covering his ears with his hands. His face scrunches up and turns red, I'm not sure if it's from anger, fear, disappointment, or just his usual fits. He starts to shake; meaning he's either going to run or pounce.

I decide to humor him a little longer, "Hey," I stick hold my hand out in a calming way, "hey, we're friends, aren't we?" His eyes peek open and he nods, "You trust me, don't you?" He nods once more, "Would you like to meet them?"

"No; I'll be in trouble."

"You won't be in trouble; I'll make them promise." I take a slow step backwards, and see as he watches me closely, like he expects me to run. "Ron?" I say, looking over my shoulder and then back to the red-faced, pudgy man in front of me.

There's a little bit of silence and then Ron shows himself from the darkness.

"This is my brother, Ron." I say, grabbing on Ron's forearm.

"Hi." Ron says, shortly. I elbow him in the ribs, "Hey, mate." He corrects himself.

"Harry?" I call out and quicker than Ron had been, he was standing next to me, his hand grazing my own.

"If you come with us, you won't be in trouble. But, if you run away, that won't be the case." Ron says. The man's face turns from uncertainty to intense. Still do this day I don't know what triggered this sudden change in him. But, the next thing I know, he takes out a wand and summons the jacket that is zipped around me; causing me to go with it, and before Ron or Harry could retrieve me, there's a wand pointed into my throat and a strong arm around my shoulders. I've never seen this side of him before, but I guess this is the side he had the last time we were both here at the Pitch.

And that's when a big, red flag must have gone up because aurors flooded around me and him with wands drawn and lights up.

"Move, and I'll kill her." He yells. There's a long pause before he bends to my ear, "You told me you wouldn't get me in trouble. You're a liar."

"Richard." Robards finally voices and the man looks up with startled eyes, "That's your name isn't it? Richard?"

I can feel him relax, maybe in shock, before tensing up once again. "I'll kill her!" He repeats once more. My eyes connect with Harry's, who is watching me, almost trying to send a mental message to stay calm and not struggle. Wow, I wonder if that is the actual message, if it is, well, Harry, don't worry, I got it.

I stand completely still and watch as Robards starts to reason with Richard, close to how I tried earlier. The words he says are muted in my ears, as I feel my life flash before my eyes, well not really, but in my own perception, I feel like it does. He shakes me around, yelling at the aurors, probably about how he's going to kill me.

"Richard, think before you act; let her go, or you _will _be in trouble." Robards says, firmly. Richard's want sticks in my neck harder.

"I'm going to do it!" He yells. I feel my tears weld in my eyes, maybe he will, maybe he won't, but I'm scared.

"No, you're not." Robards takes two steps closer to us, "You're going to give Ginny up and you're going to put your wand down." And I hear the voice by my ear start to speak, the most awful of words I imagined I would hear in this time. _Avada Ke-_

_ "Stupefy!" _All the men around us yell hitting Richard from almost every angle and pushing him backward. I shake in my spot and fall to my knees, too scared to cry. I tremble furiously and look behind me where a big man is lying, face down, with a pool of blood around his head. I let out a cry and bury my face in my hands, and feel a pair of hands grab my shoulder, lift me up, and pull me into an embrace. Whose? I don't even know. I don't even care. I almost died; sure it's not the first time, but it was the most direct, probably the scariest.

The men all run to the carrion on the ground, "He's dead." A man says, probably to Robards, but loud enough for me to hear, and I grasp at the jacket of the man who's holding me. He shushes me and rocks me back and forth.

* * *

Harry

I watch as Ginny answers a few questions with the medic who's checking her out; routine. She has bloodshot, swollen eyes, from crying out of fright, maybe a little relief. She wraps her arms around her middle and closes her eyes.

This is why I didn't want her to do this. This is why I told her to not go to Robards. Even though nothing completely bad happened, it still is traumatizing and it'll take months, maybe even years, to stop thinking about it let alone have nightmares about it. I walk over to the bench where she is seated and sit down next to her.

We sit in silence, not even looking at each other, but not trying to avoid conversation. Just sitting next to each other is enough. She leans her head onto my shoulder and sniffles and I glance down at her.

"It's over, Gin; you're safe."

* * *

Ginny

_ Six Months later…_

We walk, hand in hand, to the back of the field. I've been anticipating this since I was in St. Mungo's but have been too scared to bring it up. Harry glances at me, maybe with uncertainty, and squeezes my hand.

"Are you sure you don't want your family here with us?"

"No; just you and I. That's all I want." He nods and keeps walking without further questions.

We stop and look at the head stone, that has my name engraved on it. He lifts his wand and moves the headstone over to the side, revealing a small trapdoor. I glance to him and see as he is sheet white, maybe from grief or whatever he put in there. The trapdoor opens and out pops a shovel which starts to dig.

I look to him with confusion, "Enchanted shovel; my idea, you know, in case…" He trails off. I nod and watch as the rusting shovel digs into the ground until the surface of a blue trunk appears.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_." He whispers, levitating the trunk out of the ground and onto the grass. Slowly, I kneel down onto the ground, Harry does the same, and lift up the latch and open the dirt covered box.

It's filled with pictures, trinkets, envelopes, all things I haven't seen since before my disappearance. I grab the small, stuffed bunny, a bunny I gave to Victoire for her first birthday.

"Fleur's idea." Harry says from beside me. I set it down onto my lap and go back into the trunk where there's a picture frame of the Harpies with me at the big, championship celebration. I flip it over and see a few written messages from the Harpies, regarding how much they'll miss me, and how I've touched them. I glance at Harry, who's sitting twiddling his fingers together. I look back into the trunk and see an envelope in with his scroll on it.

I pick it up and my eyes flicker to him for approval. Opening it, I take a deep breath before reading it.

_Ginny, _

_I've spent hours sitting at my desk, trying to come up with words to write on this parchment. To be honest, I don't think I can write much. Last week, your father told me that we were going to have this 'memorial' and I can't say I stand by it. Because in my little world, you're still out there, waiting for us to find you. So, until then, I'm keeping this present for you safe, six feet under, where no one will ever find it until you come home. I had planned to give it to you the Saturday after you left. Funny how life takes turns and twists when we least expect, or want, them to. I'll find you. I promise. And I won't give up until I do._

_Harry._

I notice tear splotches near the end, almost as if he was planning on writing so much more, but decided not to. He had always been a private person. Only in certain _situations _had he opened up to me on how he really felt. I read it once more and connect that there is something else from him inside the trunk. I look back in and russell, gently, through items inside the trunk.

And then I see it.

I look up to him, and he's wearing a sad smile. He reaches in and grabs it, holding it out to me. It's a dark blue, velvet box.

I feel my lip tremble as I realize what really went missing while I was gone.

"I had so much planned for that weekend...and then you didn't come home. I flooed everyone, thinking you could have gone out and not made it back to Grimmauld, but no one knew where you were. So, I went to the Ministry, had them put out a missing person report, but, you still didn't come home. And then days went by. Weeks went by with no word from you, and I would just stare at it. I stopped visiting Teddy for a while, which angered Hermione, since she started to watch him and he would ask her why I didn't want to see him anymore. And I called in sick from work as much as possible, knowing that Ron was there and you two look a lot alike."

"Oh, Harry." I say with a warmth growing in my eyes.

"And I buried it, thinking that once it was gone, I'd be able to focus once more. But, that wasn't true. I missed you, Ginny. I missed you to the point of sickness, to the point of just giving up. But, then Ron told me that you're still out there. That I shouldn't give up because giving up meant letting you suffer longer, and I couldn't do that anymore."

He opens the box, and turns it to me. It's a beautiful ring; simple yet extravagant. Shiny yet matte. Small yet huge. "I don't think I could handle it if it never lands on your finger."

I lock eyes with him, and his sad smile has turned into a hopeful one, "Harry?"

"Ginny, please?" He didn't even need to say the words. I hold out my hand and his smile grows as he places it on my finger. "Are you not going to give me the actual answer?" He jokes.

"Hey if you don't say the actual question, I won't say the actual answer." I giggle and pulling him to me for a kiss.

* * *

And that's my story. Many would hope for more action, more angst, more something. But, that's not how it went. Harry and I, we're doing okay. It's been tough, trying to move on from something so hard for us to overcome. But, we have somehow made it through.

We've had a beautiful baby boy, his name is James. Teddy now lives with us, and calls us, Mummy and Daddy. And life is now simple, and safe. All is well, and I'm completely sure, Harry will keep it that way. The senior auror will make sure of that.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, okay, okay, I know, not the best ending to a story, kind of weird, and I'm sorry, I may rewrite it when I have the time. Thank you to all for reading this angsty-romance story! Your reactions and advice have been greatly appreciated!**


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